


Path to the Force

by teaandchess



Series: The Path of the Force [1]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ben Solo Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Damn Heroes, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Rey (Star Wars), F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other, Scoundrel Ben Solo, Sith Rey, Slow Burn, Smuggler Ben Solo, Torture, look ma i wrote a star wars, revisionist history because I can, the slowest of burns, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 55,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandchess/pseuds/teaandchess
Summary: Eleven years ago, a single moment betrayed a young girl to the evil of her grandfather. Eleven years ago, the Rule of One was reborn.As the child grows in the darkness, becoming heir to the throne of Palpatine, on the other side of the galaxy the grandson of Anakin Skywalker continues down his own path to the Light. Saved by the love of his family, Ben Solo abandoned the ways of the Jedi before it was too late and became the scoundrel his father always wanted him to be.But Ben is haunted by dreams of a menacing figure in black. Of voices beckoning him to do the will of the Dark Side.Dreams that intensify when he meets a mysterious woman who he knows will be his destiny.
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: The Path of the Force [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698538
Comments: 77
Kudos: 121





	1. The Throne of Palpatine

**Author's Note:**

> I actually thought about writing a 'fix it' fic but then decided, let's be honest here, I just really wanted more of Ben Solo in all his glory. Scoundrel Ben Solo at that. Marking it Reylo to be safe because who wouldn't? 
> 
> I haven't touched fanfic in a couple of years so I thought, why not? I need a breather and Star Wars is fun.
> 
> *This originally started as These Dark & Hopeful Acts but the story took a turn so I needed to update the title to suit it more**

He was waiting for a moment of weakness.

Such a simple little thing.

The blade was already dripping with blood when it was turned toward the father. But all he could see was the long, slow cut made upon the wife’s face. His dark eyes met Ochi’s and held his gaze with a trembling lower lip.

“I can make this last for an eternity,” Ochi said with unnatural calm. “An eternity.”

All hecould do was see her pleading for him to make it stop.

“Jakku,” he whispered.

“What was that?” Ochi asked, making a show of gesturing to his ear.

“She’s with Unkar Plutt on Jakku. Just stop. Please stop.”

It was a moment’s weakness that destroyed the life of a little girl.

* * *

The child was terrified as she was dragged before the throne, hearing the chants of Sith worshipers, hearing the thunderous applause of lightning striking through the firmament before falling to light up the earth of Exegol. Ochi held her tight and dragged her forward before tossing her like a rag doll in the space just beside the throne.

She was up on her feet and biting and scratching at him before he could strike her. Ochi grunted and swatted at her but she dodged his hand and sank her teeth into his arm. With a bellow of rage, he twisted her down beneath him and put his foot on the small of her back.

“Stay down, you little Hutt-spawn,” he snarled.

She shrieked her anger and the air itself seemed to grow heavier and heavier with the promise of … _something. Something_ that was powerful. Something that would have attacked Ochi if it wasn’t for the crackle of lightning in the air and the way something else held it fast.

An ominous laugh filled the air. It crackled and boomed in a way not unlike the thunder and lightning outside. This sound though drove fear deep into the little girl, so deep that she shook violently. She wanted to go home. Home to her mother’s arms and her father’s love. She knew they’d protect her.

Where were they?

“Only one of my blood could bring such power to Exegol. You’ve done well, Ochi,” said the voice that followed the laugh. It was a voice that curled around the air with silken intent.

Ochi removed his foot from the girl. “I’ve lived to serve only you, Master.”

The girl child turned her head up and screamed at what she could see in the shadows. A large apparatus had descended from the ceiling of the chamber and was hovering close by. In its shade, sat a wizened old man, so old he should have been frail, peered from the darkness of his robes out at her with hollowed-out milky eyes that still somehow burned.

Eyes of a monster.

Those horrible milky eyes flicked to Ochi. “Get out of my sight.”

Ochi left with a bow. Trembling, the girl bravely stood again, chin jutted out as she faced this new monster. He stared at her for a while before clicking his tongue and shaking his head.

“You have his look. But ah, the mother. I can see her in you too.” The shadow loomed closer still, supported by tubes and mechanical apparatus that kept him from falling. “Despite their failings, despite their weakness, I can see in you the promise of power.”

“I want my momma,” she whispered.

“Your parents are dead, child. Serves them right for having betrayed me, having kept you from me.” The shadow shifted. “You belong with your true family. Here, you will have everything you ever wanted.”

“I want my momma!” she screamed.

The scream echoed in the chamber and the Sith audience held their collective breaths. They waited to see _his reaction,_ knowing of his infamously calculated rage. But the only thing they received was his long, low laugh once more.

When the laughter died, the shadow sneered at her. “Such childish whims.” A skeletal hand, misshapen and lumpy, lifted and the girl was thrown through the air before being suspended by power. “You have no need of a mother. Not when you have a teacher.”

He drew his hand up and back toward him. The girl was drawn close, so close that finally she could see within his robes and see the horror of his disfigured face in its full monstrosity.

“In time, girl, you will call me more than Grandfather. You will call me Master. ” That horrible sneer was fixed on her. “We will be one in the darkness. You will learn your place, girl.”

“Momma,” she whimpered.

He snarled and sharp fingers of darkness dug deep into the child’s mind. Though she screamed and arched her back in a struggle to get him out, he dug deep and threw layer upon layer of pain and loneliness over the memory of her parents. He buried it until there was nothing left for the child to remember but her fear and her pain.

Fear and pain were instructive. They would carve out something new from this weak shell of a child.

When she was saturated with fear, he let her fall to the ground. The Emperor weakly stood from his seat and moved to stand before her. “Now, sweet granddaughter,” he said as he stretched out his hand. He cupped her chin and lifted her just enough that he could look into her eyes. “Shall we begin?”


	2. The Settlement of Batu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleven years since the little girl was taken. Eleven years for the First Order to rise. Except now Snoke has brought forward a worthy heir, a mysterious woman with unknowable power

_ 11 years later _

The Resistance had come so far and now, when they were needed most, they were faltering.

The settlement had hidden most Resistance pilots when they needed rest, allowed them to trade and repair their ships, and treated them well. The First Order hadn’t been aware of the settlement at the edge of the desert. It had been the perfect arrangement. Credits changed hands, things were kept quiet, and it was a good trade if you could get it.

That is, until one night that the sun had set blood-red into the horizon and spoke of doom. The entire settlement had realized that something bad was going to happen and had gone to being quiet. When the First Order had landed with their first platoon of troops, there had been something resigned about the settlement as they pulled guns and moved to battle positions. Those in the Resistance were sent off to warn the others.

Except for one. He had a mission after all.

Poe Dameron had tucked himself into a corner between two old huts and trained his gun on the stormtroopers rounding the corner. As he always did, he had a moment’s doubt. These were people. Brainwashed and corrupted, from what the stories told him, and maybe they were. Maybe they weren’t all bad.

Didn’t matter at the moment when they had their guns set to kill and he was a goner if he popped his head out.

Closing his dark eyes, Poe took a deep, calming breath and raised his gun. On the other side of the wall was the stormtroopers. He’d seen the ships land, heard rumours that the First Order was sending in its best. This was an opportunity for the Resistance to take down as many as possible.

Which would have been easier if it wasn’t just Poe facing squadrons of stormtroopers but he’d had worse odds before.

Licking his lower lip, he counted the steps on the other side of the thin wall.

“Search the huts! I want everything cleared!” a modulated female voice ordered. Must have been a higher up. He didn’t hear the stormtroopers answer but he followed the voice with his gun and waited. When the shining silver armour of the stormtrooper came into sight, Poe took the risk and shot off a round. The red light zoomed through the air at the back of the stormtrooper and bounced off the armour to reflect onto the wall. The trooper went down to her knees and Poe took the chance to sprint for the next shack nearby.

The tiny orange and white droid was waiting for him, whirring impatiently. “I know, I know. We should have been gone twenty minutes ago,” Poe apologized as he skidded to his knees. “BB8, I’ll listen to you next time. Right now, we’ve got to get this information out.”

The droid beeped and whirred again.

“Yeah, I know, but either the plans go or we get killed. Which one do you want?” BB8 gave an alarmed whistle and Poe nodded. “That’s what I thought. How’s the broadcast signal?”

The droid stuck out his drive and Poe reached into his pocket for the slice of hard drive he’d ripped off the nearest Star Destroyer that was buried in the Jakku desert. 

“That’s my droid,” Poe said proudly as he popped the drive in. “Should be the last bit of code from the Empire. You good?”

The droid beeped. 

“Okay. You go and—”

The shack exploded before Poe could finish his sentence and he went flying through the air, buffeted by hot winds and fire. BB8 flew the other way, screeching as he went, and Poe caught a glimpse of the droid landing in a pile of debris, buried by cloth and sand. He choked for breath and lifted his head, squinting through the stream of blood dribbling down his forehead. Bright lights sliced through the air and fixed on I’m.

“Don’t move,” warned that modulated voice. “Hands on your head.”

“Got it, don’t worry.” Poe put his hands on his head and scrambled up to his knees. He was roughhoused about and he grunted. “Hey, I said I got it. No need to get handsy.”

“Shut up,” replied a man. It was strange, Poe thought, that the man’s voice shook nervously. “Just do what we say and you won’t get hurt.”

“FN-2187, don’t speak to the prisoner,” said the silver stormtrooper. The junior trooper immediately stepped back and Poe whirled on him, grabbing hold of his blaster. He wrenched it out of his hand and whipped it about to the head of the silver stormtrooper. FN-2187 made a hissing breath but Poe focussed on the senior officer.

“Now we’re stuck. Do I shoot or do you?” he asked her. “Think anyone will care if I do.”

“No one will care.” This was a new voice from behind him. “But it would make it very simple to kill you instead of letting you live.”

It was a woman’s voice, gently modulated to disguise age, and there was a hissing noise and hum. A hum Poe knew only from legend. Something hot rested just over his shoulder, warning him not to make a sudden move.

“Either way,” the woman said, “I win.”

Carefully, Poe looked over his shoulder into the dark brown eyes of a woman close to his own height. She wore a black hood and scarf across her narrow shoulders, but it was her face that held Poe rapt. A half-mask was secured about her face, just covering her nostrils and mouth. It was an oxygen mask, he thought, modified for space travel. What it did though was make her absolutely terrifying.

Beautiful as a deadly snake too but Poe was determined to be practical.

An elegant brow rose at his silence. “What’s it to be?”

He removed the blaster from the officer’s head and the woman before him looked at the stormtrooper. “FN-2187,” she said. “Is that right?”

FN-2187’s head dropped. “My Lady.”

“Back to the ship. We have what need. Resistance obliterated from their safehouse,” said the silver stormtrooper.

“Phasma,” said the other woman. “I haven’t decided if we’re done here.”

“Is there more?”

The woman’s eyes fixed on Poe and he thought she might be smiling. “Oh, there’s more. Isn’t there, Captain?”

Poe jerked.

“I thought you looked familiar.” Before he could move, she reached out with a hand and touched his temple. “That rebel scum’s hope. The General’s favourite pilot. She’d pay in blood to get you back. Especially…” She paused and her eyes bore into his with such intensity that Poe nearly cringed. “Since you were taking information to Skywalker.”

Poe stiffened his spine a little, trying to glare back at her. That only increased the amusement in the woman’s eyes. She didn’t seem very old, not compared to him, but the way she held herself was threatening. Again he was reminded of a snake about to strike.

The pressure in his head grew and grew until it became unbearable and he squeezed his eyes shut with a yelp to try to stop it. The woman made no sound but her fingers wiggled beside his head a little. The pressure was growing worse and Poe was certain his head was going to split in two from it.

“Information...about our Contingency plans.” She tilted her head on the side. “How interesting.”

“Who are you?” he gasped.

Her eyes tore away from his to Phasma. “Bring him, Captain. We’ll take care of this on the Finalizer.”

“My Lady.”

“Come on, Lady,” Poe said as he launched toward her. “Who are you?” 

He only moved a step before something latched around his throat and began to crush his windpipe with systematic slowness. Though no hand touched him, Poe felt as if there was a finger closing about his neck one at a time and he choked for air. The woman’s eyebrows were raised and she held her hand up. She ticked her fingers towards herself and wiggled them, until he was suspended just before her. She tilted her head the other way and the corners of her eyes crinkled a little. He was sure she was smiling.

It didn’t make him feel any better. 

“I like having guests. I don’t get them often.” Her eyes went to Phasma again. “Cuff him and put him in the interrogation chamber. We’ll see how willing he is to give up the Resistance when we...convince him.”

“My Lady.” Phasma nodded her head and she cuffed Poe easily as he hung there in the air. The woman in black turned away and Poe felt his feet meet ground again. As Phasma finished cuffing him, Poe took the second to look at the only person left. The person who reeked of fear. FN-2187 shifted from foot to foot nervously and Poe glanced at him. The bloody handprint that trailed across his chest distorted the pristine white of his uniform and only highlighted how nervous the stormtrooper was. 

Poe was led by FN-2187 toward the waiting cruiser with Phasma just before him, when the silver stormtrooper paused. 

“Lady Ceria.” The woman in black turned around and fell into step beside Captain Phasma. “Will you be returning with the platoon?”

The woman in black looked out across the desert. She hesitated for a second and Poe wondered at the way her eyes narrowed. She seemed to be thinking very deeply. He didn’t dare say a word. His throat still ached from her chokehold.

“Yes. Ready my personal cruiser. Be sure that this one,” she jerked her head at Poe, “is kept well guarded. He’s the one with information we need.”

She walked ahead of them and Poe took the chance to glance behind him. BB8 was peeking out from behind a mess of debris but he wasn’t moving. The Gods had blessed that little droid with common sense and Poe quickly looked ahead of himself. This strange woman could see too much and he didn’t want to risk her guessing that a direct link to Leia Organa was just a hundred feet away.

It was why Poe allowed himself to be led onto the cruiser so quietly.

There would be no rescue this time, not for him. Leia had warned him that missions like this could only have so much acceptable risk. Saving a captain wouldn’t be a priority, he figured.

He caught FN-2187’s helmet turned in his direction and he made a face at the trooper.

Rescue. Right. He should be so lucky.

* * *

FN-2187 waited until the prisoner was in the detention sector before he quickly found an empty alcove and gave into his panic attack. It was a good two hours before he could give into that horrible feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure how he’d held it together for so long when everything had screamed at him to run. Scrambling, he removed his helmet and sucked in air desperately through trembling lips before he closed his eyes and leaned back into the piping. He was familiar with this spot. His cleaning duties had let him learn all about the various places to hide and he used them to his advantage.

Other troopers had been envious he’d been promoted to the Finalizer, where the action was but FN-2187 was only aware of the constant dread he lived with every day. That one day he’d be found out. He wasn’t a killer, he wasn’t some mindless drone. FN-2187 was many things, he hoped, but he wasn’t a soldier like the others were.

He was going to get himself killed, was what he was going to end up doing.

He glanced out the alcove and saw the prisoner being led towards another room. A torture chamber. FN-2187 quickly pressed back against the pipes again when a tall, lanky ginger-haired man appeared with Captain Phasma. What kind of prisoner had they captured?

A smaller dark figure passed by FN-2187 and he watched the mysterious woman who had entered the Finalizer four weeks ago approached the viewport. “Report,” she ordered Hux.

“No sign of the other Resistance members. You pulled out the infantry too fast,” he said snidely.

“I’m sure you’ll tell your Supreme Leader all about it.”

“Of course I will,” Hux said. “Are you overseeing the torture of our prisoner or do I get that pleasure?”

He raised a hand and a small hovering robot drifted toward him. Its mechanical arms brandished hypodermic needles and brands, already glowing red, swayed dangerously close to the woman in black. She didn’t flinch but waved her hand. The droid moved back toward Hux and one long arm, in the form of a bandsaw, buzzed close to him.

“I’m sure you’ll have fun without me,” she said. She turned away and started to walk down the hall. But suddenly she paused and looked in the direction of FN-2187. He shrank back into his alcove and prayed to Gods he didn’t believe in that she didn’t see him. Her mask made a hissing noise and then she was gone.

FN-2187 didn’t move, not even when the screams of Captain Dameron began.

* * *

She’d felt it in the airspace of Jakku. A slice of doubt that began to burrow into her.

Doubt had no place in her existence but here it was, worming its way deep inside of her. As she walked along the ledge of the Supreme Leader’s chambers, she watched the curvature of Jakku and wondered if she could risk going down. But Snoke would notice and see that as weakness. He didn’t often punish her these days for that weakness, still considered her no more than an apprentice even though she was sure she had long since surpassed the need for him to be her master, but Darth Ceria had no plans to test that theory.

She had to wait for the right moment. It would come, sooner or later. The way it always did. 

_ It is always a matter of waiting for the right moment,  _ her grandfather’s oil-slick voice whispered in her head.  _ Then you strike. _

Darth Sidious had known too well the ins and outs of out-manuevaring political opponents. Darth Ceria had no real taste for politics but that voice in her head had kept her from assassinations and ruin so long that when it spoke she listened. Whether on Coruscant, where she had her hidden rooms or on Exegol where she was greeted as future Empress, she paid attention when the voice of her grandfather spoke to her.

Snoke’s golden robes made a soft slithering noise and as she looked out at the landscape of Jakku, Darth Ceria wondered how it would look if she killed him where he sat.

“Have you felt it?” Snoke asked and it startled her out of her train of thought.

“Felt what?”

“That feeling, that oddness. Something is amiss.” He scoffed. “You should have sensed it immediately.”

“I felt many things down on Jakku. Fear. Hate.” She paused and thought about the moment her boots had met that sandy soil. “Pain.”

So much pain. Instead of rejoicing in it, it had made her stumble. It had made her spare the life of that ridiculous Captain Dameron when she should have just ripped him apart and left him for dead. It had almost felt like…

_ Nostalgia. Weakness. Hope. Fear. _

“There’s been an awakening,” Snoke said as he watched Darth Ceria move through the chamber but she kept her eyes now on the telescopic mirror that showed the entirety of his fleet. “Have you felt it?”

“It doesn’t mean much,” she said. 

That pressure in her head had been growing worse since that desert settlement. though…the ache of it…it meant  _ something. _

“It will mean something if it interferes with our plans,” Snoke continued, tone chastising. “Your training depends on your complete focus.”

Her hand went to her belt in reaction to his criticism but she didn’t unfasten the lightsaber. Instead, she tapped her nails on the hilt and kept her thoughts to herself. She projected calm. She maintained her composure.

Barely. 

“I am focussed. I am more than prepared.” She tilted her chin up proudly and flashed a grin beneath the half-mask. “My grandfather has prepared me well for any adversary.”

Snoke’s beady eyes glinted at her. “Even one of the Skywalkers?”

Ceria scoffed. “Luke Skywalker? He’s an old man now and hasn’t touched the Jedi texts in years. Hasn’t trained any Jedi in the years since you had his temple destroyed by those ghouls you call Knights.” She hesitated before assuming just a modicum of respect. “Master.” Darth Ceria turned away and her long brown hair swept before her face as the breeze from a ventilation shaft touched her skin. She scowled at it. That shouldn’t be there. Why was there a breeze?

Her attention went back to Snoke. “Besides, you destroyed the potentials, didn’t you? There is only old Skywalker left. He has been in hiding somewhere in the system.”

“His sister had potential but perhaps you are right. Perhaps there is no threat.” Palpatine’s creation grinned ghoulishly at her and his grin made her frown. “But what if there is?”

“You know something,” Darth Ceria snapped. “What is it?”

“So impatient, young Palpatine. So impatient.”

“Impatience is a sign that I know you are hiding something,” she snarled. “What are you hiding?”

“There is always a balance to the Force. The Light to the Dark. You are, in truth, the Dark. It is natural for the Light to gather its own champion,” Snoke said. “And I know who it is.”

Darth Ceria ground her teeth together and took a moment to collect herself. In her head, her grandfather’s voice calmly told her to wait for the time to be right. Snoke was useful. So useful. But even use had its limitations to her patience. Let him assume he held something over her head.

“Who is it?” she asked with far more calm than she had been facing the Supreme Leader with. Snoke had a way of getting beneath her skin that she deeply resented.

“The heir to Darth Vader, who rejected the call of the Force due to to Skywalker’s interference. Otherwise he would be standing here beside you, a worthy apprentice himself.” Snoke leaned forward and with a conspiratorial whisper changed her world. 

“Ben Solo.”


	3. The Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben Solo is 100% for sure his father's son.

The Millennium Falcon was screaming. Anyone else would have been worried about the state she was in. Her consoles rang with alarms and her piping and hosing hissed with hot steam while she zoomed through the open space between systems, dodging the blasts from a distant TIE fighter that had been pursuing her relentlessly. She was going fast, faster than most freighters dared to try, and narrowly dodged bits of space junk on her way along a route that really wasn’t much more than a haphazard space lane barely used by any respectable smuggler. There was a rickety nature to the ship that would have convinced most pilots that today might be the last day she flew. 

At the controls, a scoundrel of an older man, still handsome and with a wry grin that hid so much, was trying to sweet talk the ship into keeping together long enough for them to make their escape without being followed.

“Come on, baby, I got you,” Han Solo whispered. “We just need to get some distance between us and that team of First Order moof-milkers. They don’t need to know what we’ve been doing out here.”

The ship was hit by something hard on the starboard and it spun the ship off course. Han reached for the controls as they were buffeted the other way by another hefty bit of space junk and he grunted as he was slammed into a huge frame of fur and muscle. There was a deep growl and long furry arms reached over Han’s head to flick a set of controls. The ship banged along within the depths of the route, buffeted by space junk in its way, and Han could barely keep the Falcon from being pulverized by the larger pieces left over by the First Order when they’d flown here months before.

“Kriff! Learn to fly!” shouted a younger voice from within the halls of the Falcon. 

The Wookie at Han Solo’s side roared in answer just as the Corellian Freighter did a vicious side roll when it was struck by the remains of a junk ship and everyone within it went pitching left and right. The Falcon was barely able to get back onto route but somehow the Wookie and the human in control managed to bring it back to rights. In the depths of the ship, the young dark-haired man that had just been thrown into a smuggling compartment popped back up, a torch in his hand and a handful of disconnected wires in the other.

“Chewie! Get Dad away from the controls, he’s too old for this!” he shouted over the whine and hiss of a compartment unit going insane at the pressure being built up. Quickly going in, he jumped up and locked his legs around a bracer so he could hang closer to the screaming unit. He shook his hair out of his eyes and squinted at the panel. The ship did another roll just as he reached forward with his torch and he squeezed his legs tighter to keep from falling. He made sure to loudly declare, “I must have gotten my piloting from Uncle Luke.”

“I heard that, kid! I’m dropping you off at the first asteroid mine I can find.” The Millennium Falcon made a spectuarliy loud bang as it hit something. “The minute I get this ship flying right, you’re out being a miner, we clear?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Another Wookie roar about Han being reckless echoed Ben Solo’s thoughts perfectly. “Dad, let Chewie fly, I need you here.”

He heard grumbling and footsteps but paid it no attention as he hung upside down in the compartment and tried to see what had been jarred loose from the upper unit. “Probably a compressor somewhere,” he muttered to himself as he shimmied himself up higher within the tight confined space.

“You fix it yet?” Han Solo’s still handsome, if not worn face poked out just beneath his son’s.

“Working on it, Dad.” Ben shoved his dark hair out of his face and swivelled to look at his father. Han looked murderously calm. Which was unusual but concerning all the same. 

“The last time we lose my ship on a bet, we clear?” Han gestured around. “Getting too old to keep running around saving it.”

“Love to believe that, Dad, but let’s face facts,” Ben commented as he yanked on two yellow wires and twisted them together. The compartment began to beep more steadily and he grinned at his father. “You can’t resist a bad bet.”

“Switch the green and the red wires. There you go.” That said, Han scoffed. “You are just like your mother.”

Ben grunted as he shoved the wires back into the unit and slammed the fuses back up. “Means I’m better looking than you than, right?”

Han huffed. “I know if I say no, you’re telling her.”

“Come on, not like Mom and I are on speaking terms that much.” Ben untangled his legs from the unit and hopped up out of the compartment with an odd sort of grace for a man his size. “That should do it. Punch it, Chewie!”

The Falcon gave a horrible choking sound, lurched a little, then settled with a wheeze. The two Solos looked at one another and Ben’s face fell as his father’s adopted a look of stony disappointment. “It’s not my fault,” Ben said, putting his hands in the air. Chewie roared his annoyance again. “I SAID IT’S NOT MY FAULT!”

Han ground his teeth together. “Never is your fault, Ben. Try again.”

Ben sighed and wiggled back into the compartment, huffing as he squeezed himself around piping. “I got it this time.”

“You’d better or I’m not bailing you out the next time you cheat at Sabbac.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Ben grumbled. “I just used my, uh, skills to figure it out.”

Han popped his head in beside his son and gave him a look. “Your uncle would be real disappointed if he learned you were using the Force to cheat at card games.”

At the mention of Luke Skywalker, Ben made a face. “Not like he’d care in the first place.”

“I mean I know I taught you better,” Han said as he watched the younger man swivel about and fiddle with a secondary compressor. “You should be able to cheat without the Force.”

“The Force? It makes things easier,” Ben answered before banging the compressor once with the flat of his hand. 

The entire Falcon lurched forward in the telltale sign of a jump to hyperspace and Chewie growled his approval from the cockpit. Ben panted for breath before flashing his father a grin that was an eerie echo of Han’s own cocksure one and Han rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Get this mess cleaned up before we hit the Hosnian system. I’m going to check our route, make sure it’s clear.”

“It’s clear,” Ben said, “I checked it myself. You don’t trust me?”

Han took too long to answer that. “I do think your decisions are gonna be the death of me, kid, but not today.”

Ben sighed and hopped out of the compartment to tower over his father. “I’ll check the cargo stash, see what we’ve got we can unload when we land in case we get inspected.”

Han gave him an affectionate smack on the shoulder. “That’s my boy. Remember, what good is a reward—”

“If you ain’t around to use it, yeah, yeah I’ve heard that a million times before,” Ben said as he headed for the crew quarters, not the cargo hold. Han watched him go for a moment before shrugging and heading to the cockpit himself.

Chewie was waiting for him, the streaming light of hyperspace whizzing past them as the Falcon soared gracefully with only a few bumps here and there. The Wookie gave him that side-eye look that Han knew so well.

“Don’t start,” he warned his oldest friend. “Just don’t.”

Chewie grunted. “ _ You have to let him go sometime. He’s too old to be smuggling with us. He needs friends.” _

_ “ _ I got that, Chewie, but I promised his mother I’d look out for him. Besides, after losing him to the academy for years, I want him around.”

That earned him a flick of the eyes and a grunt of “ _ You’ll push him away.” _

“Ben’s a good kid.”

“ _ He’s a man,”  _ Chewie corrected in his deep growl. “ _ He should be off on his own, making his own mistakes.” _

_ “ _ I’ll bring it up with him later. I just…” Han sighed. “I get this bad feeling that if I let him go without me, he’ll...think we don’t want him around. You saw what happened when he apprenticed to Luke. Kid was angry and we didn’t know what to do. If Luke didn’t have that premonition and sent him back home to us, we’d have lost him.”

Han looked out the cockpit viewport. “I don’t think I could live with myself if I lost my only son to the Dark side.”

#

Ben sat atop his bed, one he had perfectly made with all tight corners and a pristine fresh blanket atop it, and brooded. He did this particularly well and he knew it. Brooding had always been a skill of his that he knew he hadn’t gotten from his father and it was likelier from his mother’s side of the family. He wondered, idly, if his grandfather had done this often. There wasn’t much information on the habits of Darth Vader or the Jedi Anakin Skywalker had once been, but Ben liked to imagine he would sit down and brood over his next steps.

Mass genocide likely took some brooding. 

Closing his eyes, he took in some deep breaths. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so strange. He’d long since accepted, with a sick sense of resignment, that his bloodline was full of darkness and wrongdoing but also of great good and balance. It was, as his mother said to him when he was a child, their choice to fix the past wrongs and to keep the dark from destroying them again. 

Ben was used to the constant presence of the darkness in his life, to that thick vein of Dark side that ran straight through him and splintered him down the middle. It was the Light, his uncle had said, that kept him stitched together. He found his strength in the Light and that was what truly mattered. Ben wasn’t sure it was that simple but he never argued with Uncle Luke much about that. He was used to feeling mixed up and unable to choose a side in the Force but let his uncle think the Light was his only choice.

No, this wasn’t that feeling. It felt as if his world was being turned upside down and all he was doing was sitting here.

When he opened his eyes again after a long moment of steady meditation, it was to notice that his things were floating. His gear hovered feet off the ground near his bed and was spinning slowly about. Ben lost his focus then and the slow spin suddenly warped into hyperspeed and he ducked as an armful of his books whizzed toward him.

They smacked into the wall behind him before dropping with a clatter and he sighed. 

“ _ Control, Ben. You need control. Even if you don’t want to become a Jedi, you still need to learn control,” _ his uncle’s patient voice rang in his head. Ben could almost picture Luke sitting cross-legged on his favourite rock, looking both infinitely patient and yet completely flummoxed by Ben’s resistance to his training. “ _ Really, Ben, it is like you like the loss of control.” _

Whenever Luke had said that Ben had known a little bit of guilt. He still did. Not because he felt he had failed at his training. He didn’t regret leaving his uncle’s temple just before its destruction at some unknown hand, he didn’t regret leaving it all behind to become a pilot like his father. 

No, the guilt did not come from any decision he had made but because Ben did enjoy the loss of control. He liked those moments when his Force powers surged out of him and whipped around him like a whirlwind that tore into his surroundings. He enjoyed the wildness of the untamed Force within him. He might deny it to his mother and father, but just brushing up against the Dark Side brought him a thrill like nothing else did. He’d have to fly straight through a star to get the same rush.

No wonder his parents had been so worried about him for so long. No wonder their relief when he had said he would leave the ways of the Jedi behind. 

Ben stared at the wall and slowly the objects floating in the air began to settle down once more until they found the proper place. The last book nestled itself into its shelf just in time for the door to whizz open and his father to pop his head through.

“We’re being hailed. Come on,” he ordered. “It’s a coded message.

Ben frowned and wracked his brain for possible people his father owed money to. “You paid your debt to Cavan Golda right?”

“Paid my debt to…” Han threw a hand in the air. “You are just like your mother.” 

“I just want to be sure I’m not about to be dragged into another one of your debts,” Ben said as he stood up from his bunk and followed his father down the hall. “Last time I almost ended up on Tattooine as a bantha runner.”

“You survived, didn’t you?” Han pointed out. “I did save your scrawny behind.”

“Just barely.” Ben shot his father a wry grin. “Mom is gonna kill you when I tell her that story. Be a shame if I had a break on planet-side before she saw me next.”

Han gave him a skeptical look. “Are you blackmailing me, kid?”

He was shot back an incredibly innocent look. “I was raised by a senator. Would I blackmail you?” Ben asked

“Yeah,” Han said, “you would. What do you want?”

“Few days on Coruscant. I need…” Ben couldn’t meet his father’s eyes. “I just need some planet-side distraction.”

“Say no more,” Han said with a grin. “I can arrange that. Everyone needs some distraction if you know what I mean.”

He waggled his eyebrows shamelessly at his son. Ben stared at him and then caught on to the implication of his words. “Kriff, Dad, that is  _ not _ what I meant.”

“It’s perfectly natural,” Han said as he followed Ben into the hold, “I mean, when I used to come home from a trade mission to your mother I used to—”

“I don’t need to hear this!” Ben shouted and he slapped his hand on the holovid controls. “Please, for the Force’s sake, be a good message to get me out of this.”

The holo flickered and shone down on the table with a countdown meter running down. Han took a seat and gave Ben a concerned look. “Encrypted. Whoever it is doesn’t want to risk us being tracked.”

“That’s nice of them,” Ben said as he sat on the other side and put a long leg up on the table. “Wake me up when it starts.”

He made a show of folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against the booth while keeping his feet up. 

“Ben Solo, get your feet off the table!” 

His mother’s voice rang through the air with the low-voiced command of a woman used to getting her own way and Ben promptly jerked his feet off and leaned forward. Leia Organa was glaring at him with all the disapproval Ben had long been used to since choosing to go with his father instead of becoming a Senator like she had wanted.

“Mother,” he said. “Nice to see you.”

She planted her hands on her hips in the holo. “I can see your father’s influence is as strong as ever. I feel like you’re five years old again and I have to give you a time out already.”

Han gave his son a lazy grin. “Better him than me, I say.”

“And you,” Leia turned on her estranged husband, “we’re going to have a very long chat when I see you next about just flouncing off to the Outer Rim with no word for months on end. With our only son!”

“Ah, come on, princess, if you want me to kiss you good-bye next time you just need to ask,” Han said with that grin on his face that Ben knew meant he was trying to rile up Leia. The small woman glared at Han. 

“You took our son when I needed him and he could have been so much more useful in the Senate…”

Han kicked the table and the Holo began to fuzz a little. “Oh, sorry, princess, you’re fading out there.” He caught Ben’s eye and winked at him. Ben sighed and gave up on understanding the relationship between his parents. At least his father had saved him from another long lecture about how brilliant a senator Ben could have been if he just stayed around planet-side more often.

“What’s with the call, princess?” Han asked when the holo stopped fuzzing. “Not that I mind seeing your pretty face but there’s usually a reason.”

Leia began to grumble about Han, as she usually did these days, but Ben took the moment of distraction to really look at his mother. Her face seemed even more lined, aged and tired, than he remembered and her voice was edged with something sharp. Exhaustion maybe.

“How goes the Resistance then?” Han asked.

“Hard. Very hard.” Leia sighed. “That’s why I called you. We’re hiding out again but we’ve lost touch with our top pilot.”

Ben bristled. “Can’t be a top pilot if he got lost, can he?”

“Don’t be jealous, kid,” Han said. “Top pilots are a dozen to a bantha but there’s only one Solo family.”

“You two are just alike…” Leia clearly bit back what she wanted to say. 

Staring at her, Ben could feel the threads of their connection, a deep one he knew to be Force guided, starting to wrap around one another. It was like a warm netting wrapping around him and Leia. He read more in his mother’s exasperation with her Solo men than she was letting on.

“He had something, didn’t he?” Ben asked. “What are you up to?”

“There’s rumours,” Leia said,” but I don’t think they’re just rumours. On the Outer Rim, the First Order is gaining more strength in their building. We discovered a Contingency plan. Something that could destroy an entire system like that.” She snapped for emphasis. “But what it is, we don’t know.”

“You’re going just based on rumours?” Han tsked a few times. “Princess, that’s not like you.”

“We had two crews lose their lives over this information,” Leia snapped, “so trust me, it isn’t just rumour. And it is more than just Contingency.”

“What is it?” 

Leia’s still beautiful face was creased with worry. “I need your help, Han.”

“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me,” Han told the holo. The General sighed and turned instead to her son.

“I have a pilot, Poe Dameron, with valuable information who has been taken by the First Order.”

“Of course it’s Dameron,” Ben said with a roll of his eyes. 

“I don’t like the sound of this,” Han muttered.

“We need him rescued before they torture it out of him. It isn’t just the Contingency Poe knows They could…”

“Take locations and stuff, I get it,” Ben said. “What exactly does he know?”

Leia shook her head. “I shouldn’t tell you in case…”

“No one is going to do anything to me, Mom,” Ben said. “What’s going on?”

“He knows the Contingency plan of the First Order I believe. I sent him...and a droid has relayed information for him. The droid is on Jakku and we need him retrieved. But more than that…”

There was something in her, a hesitancy that showed how worried she was. With that feeling from before, the feeling of unease, settling in his stomach, Ben stared at his mother’s blue-tinged face. “Uncle Luke.”

She cringed. “Yes, he knows where your uncle last was. It is my fault. I had a meeting with Luke and he was part of it. It wouldn’t be impossible to draw conclusions from that.”

“You trust people too much, Princess,” Han said as he reclined back in his seat.

“Better than not trusting at all. Poe is my very best pilot.” Her eyes came directly on Ben. He read her message in her eyes. She didn’t want them involved, hadn’t wanted Ben directly involved with the rag-tag Resistance in the past few years, but she was desperate.

“What do you need from us?” Han asked when he saw the way Ben squirmed a little at his mother’s look. “Rescue mission?”

“Rescue mission,” she agreed. “Get in there, get out.”

“We can do that,” Han said and Ben sputtered a little. 

“Do what? The First Order fleet stands between us and a pilot!”

“Oh you’re such laser brain,” Han said with a roll of his eyes. “We’ve done more complicated extractions before.”

“You what?” Leia demanded. “What have you two been doing out there?”

“Nothing, sweetheart, nothing at all.” Han leaned forward and tapped the table. “It’s simple. Bait and switch. We land near them, coax them out, and one of us goes and sneaks him out.” Han grinned. “I vote you be the bait, Ben.”

“What!” Ben protested but Leia raised a hand.

“I’ll leave you to figure it out.” She started to flicker but her eyes caught Ben’s. He felt her through the Force then, that warm and bright presence that had forever been his rock. He felt her confusion about why he was spending his time hiding with Han Solo but over that was the warmth of her love. He smiled at her for just a heartbeat before she turned to Han. “I’d better see you again. Don’t go dying on me.”

“Love you too, princess,” Han said but under all that mocking tone was a sweet note to his voice. A note Ben had always been a little jealous of. He’d never known such passionate love as had always been between his parents.

“I know.”

That said, she was gone and Ben and Han were left to look at the table for a long moment. Then Han cleared his throat and met Ben’s dark eyes with his own crinkled in amusement. “So. Jakku it is then. Chart it.”

“Jakku it is,” Ben agreed half-heartedly but his father was already standing up and barking orders at Chewie who argued back that he hated Jakku and the sand that got in his fur every time. Ben stayed a while at the table, thinking about what his mother  _ hadn’t  _ said.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he whispered before standing up and going to chart the course to Jakku.


	4. The Middle of Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Solos find that special little droid who gives them hell for taking so long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *note the title change. I wanted a more canon typical, less complex way of describing the story*
> 
> I'm just enjoying writing this, so you know, have a chapter a few days early

* * *

* * *

“Welcome to the middle of nowhere. If nowhere had a capital,” Han said as he headed down the ramp to the chunk of desert that the Falcon had landed upon, “then Jakku would be it.”

“Except for the Battle of Jakku,” Ben said as he followed his father down. Nearby, he could hear the rattle of the outpost’s hum, see the large creatures moving in toward the watering hole, and the hot breeze blasted him from all sides. Though it was hot, he was glad to be wearing clothing to ward off the blistering light that shone. Early mornings in Niima seemed to be just as arid as he’d feared.

“Trust me, that Battle didn’t put it on the map,” Han said as he adjusted his jacket across his chest and flipped his collar up to keep the sun rays at bay. He groaned when the wind picked up and struck him across the face, causing his nose to wrinkle in distaste. “The smell of this place.”

Ben had to agree it wasn’t pleasant. It was the smell of hundreds of bodies, washed and unwashed, perfumes, spices, metal, oils, and all sorts that spoke of the nomadic lifestyle of some of the scavengers of Jakku. It wasn’t that he found it distasteful. It was just so much all at once. He reached into his shirt and quickly pulled his scarf up over his nose and his black hood over his hair. Besides its protection, it wouldn’t hurt to disguise his identity and he shot his father a meaningful look over the edge of the scarf. 

Han ignored him and shouted back up into the Falcon, “Chewie, get her up and running.”

The Wookie popped his head out from the ramp and grumbled, “ _ I was going to do that anyway.” _

“Yeah, because knowing Dad we’re going to need a fast exit,” Ben said as he headed down the ramp and took a good long look at the settlement.

“Very funny.” Han holstered his blaster and fixed his coat collar as he followed Ben. “Now, just keep your mouth shut and we’ll be fine.”

“Me? You’re the one who gets talking fast,” Ben protested, deep voice muffled by his scarf.

“And if you were smart you’d learn to talk like me. Keep us out of more trouble that way,” Han pointed out. Ben really didn’t have much of an argument for that. Lately he had been the one to get them into too much trouble. Han had suspected, rightly, that Ben had been picking fights just for the fun of it. But the younger Solo just couldn’t resist the chance to brush up against a bit of darkness. It was always a weakness of his.

He followed his father through the makeshift streets of Niima Outpost, taking in the unfamiliar sights and sounds with his usual caution but inside he really didn’t care much for any of it. He’d been on hundreds of worlds like this. Backwater planets with nothing for them except their sense of anonymity where people like Han Solo were safe from notice. Not that anyone noticed Ben either. Despite his height and dark hood, not a single person looked at him. Probably for the best, he thought.

They’d gone through several of the tents when Ben turned to look at a spicer’s tent and heard the piercing sound of a child crying. The cry was enough to snap him out of his thoughts on the Niima outpost and look around. No one else had reacted or seemed to care that a child was crying their heart out. “You hear that?” he asked his father who shrugged and headed for a repair shop shadowed beneath a tent. Ben would have followed if the crying wasn’t so loud but he found he couldn’t ignore it. He was drawn toward it as if someone had strung a line between himself and that pitiful sound.

He moved out of the street and followed the sound of the crying to a tent that was closest to the watering hole where several large beasts were guzzling down the stagnant water. The tent had once been someone’s home, he guessed, with its threads unravelling and the thick material aged in the sunlight. Ben pushed aside the cloth door and entered the tent, his eyes immediately landing upon the small girl crouched in the corner, tethered by the wrist to a post. 

Pulling his hood close about his face, he crouched down. She had her head buried in her arms and was sobbing now, her cries having gone unnoticed until now. Ben tentatively reached out and touched her shoulder.

“Hey, what happened? You’re stuck here?” he asked in a soft voice. He couldn’t be sure if he was being spied on and he knew that this could very easily be a trap. 

The girl lifted her head and sobbed daintily before wiping at her nose with the sleeve of her arm wrap. But oddly she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking through him, her head tilted back. Her gaze was desperately searching behind him, fixed on the bright blue of the sky, and Ben turned to look as well. The girl made a soft sound before crying softly “Come back” and it almost cracked his heart in two. There were too many questions though and Ben turned to look at her.

Gone was the girl child and Ben jerked in surprise.

In her place, a woman in a black robe looked back at him from the depths of her hood. Her masked face shifted and above the sharp lines of the mask her eyes glimmered with a deep pain. A hissing sound escaped her mask as she stared back at him. Then he thought she might have smiled beneath the mask. 

“He’s coming for you,” she said in a modulated voice that chilled him to the bone before reaching up with her hand to remove the mask. He didn’t glimpse anything but bared sharp teeth as she hissed like a beast at him and he heard the telltale snarl of a lightsaber being ignited.

Ben leapt back to his feet, going for the blaster at his hip and shooting before he could stop himself. The blast tore harmlessly through the tent wall, leaving a hole in the fabric. Ben heaved for breath as he stared at the burn mark, aware of a cold sweat now dampening his forehead. There was no threat now. He holstered his blaster and stared in confusion at the empty spot before him.

His father’s sudden “What the hell happened?” from behind him startled Ben before his father moved through the tent to run his finger through the blaster hole. “Saw something?”

Ben ran his hand through his hair. “It’s nothing. Blaster went off.”

Han turned and gave him a frown that spoke volumes. He knew his son was lying. “I worry about you sometimes, kid,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, me too,” Ben muttered as he followed Han out of the tent. It was a relief that Han decided to let it go and pointed around the outpost.

“I think I found the droid we’re looking for but it’s going to take some persuasion to get him from the big brute holding onto it, if you catch my drift.”

Ben gave his father a look. “You mean the Han Solo way?”

“I was thinking the Jedi way,” was the casual response and Ben glared at the back of his father’s head as they walked along the tents.. 

“You just scolded me about using the Force to cheat. Now you want me to…” 

“I’m just suggesting,” Han said as he looked up at Ben, “that you make sure your skills aren’t getting rusty.”

“It might not even work,” Ben said. “I don’t…”

“Doesn’t hurt to try. Just do the hand wavy thing and look all mysterious. I’ll take care of the rest,” Han explained.

“Doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence,” his son muttered as they headed down the street and made an abrupt turn into an open space where a turnstile stood. Within it was a concession stand where all matter of creatures, human and otherwise, were rummaging through sacks looking for parts. Once or twice, one would find something and take it to the cage where behind it stood a large Crolute wearing a leather cap and apron to ward off the sun. 

“I don’t like the look of this,” Ben whispered.

“Keep your head on straight and we’ll be fine.” Han cleared his throat and pasted a charming smile on his face. “Unkar Plutt?”

Plutt growled as he looked up. “Who’s asking?”

“I’m in the market for a droid and got told you are the...Crolute to come to,” Han said as he pushed around a wiry old scavenger who looked more like a hunk of leather than actual human. Ben joined him at the desk and looked up into the jowly face that wobbled as the creature breathed. He read him easily with that look though he didn’t need to be Force-sensitive to know what he was dealing with. There was nothing in this Crolute but pure greed, the kind that was easy to manipulate if you were Han Solo.

Ben wasn’t sure how many credits his mother had deposited to his father’s account to get through this mission but he somehow doubted it would be enough. They’d have to rely on his father’s sense of charm. Whatever that meant. 

Still it wouldn’t hurt. “We’re looking for a BB8 unit,” he said from behind his scarf. He was aware of the intimidating way he looked which is why he often did it on these backwater planets. “Do you have one?”

Plutt gave them an odd grin. “So many look for droid. You want droid?” He snapped his massive fingers and two lackeys rolled the droid out. The BB8 unit crowed its irritation at them, saw the two men, and immediately began to whir impatiently. It had to deliver its message and find Poe Dameron, it said over and over again. That no one else responded meant that this likely didn’t mean a thing to them. Ben glanced at his father who was nodding at Plutt.

“We’ve got the credits,” Han offered.

Plutt popped his lips and considered them. “Ten thousand.”

Han’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Ten thousand? For a junky little droid?”

“Ten thousand,” Plutt repeated. “It must be important.”

“I think you mean to be a lot lower than that. Something around the lines of...a hundred,” Han said and he looked at Ben. His son sighed and pulled his scarf down so he could speak more clearly.

“You’d be wise to let us have the droid.”

Plutt eyed him when he did that. “I can’t be intimidated. Nothing frightens me.”

There was a slight tremour to his voice that said otherwise. 

“You’re not made for the sun, are you?” Ben asked calmly. Han stepped back and let his son take his place before Plutt. “Your kind is aquatic.”

“So?” Plutt demanded. 

Ben leaned a gloved hand between them and looked at him. “Give us the droid for a hundred and I won’t drag you out and leave you on the sand dune.”

Surprisingly, that only made Plutt laugh in a deep bellow. “You think to threaten  _ me?”  _ he asked.

“Ben,” Han said in a low voice, “what are you doing?”

“Threatening him,” Ben explained but he didn’t take his eyes off of Plutt. “Droid or sand, your choice.”

Plutt lifted a hand and three burly human goons appeared from the shadows of the concession stand. Han backed up a step but Ben kept his attention on them. He then closed his eyes for a heartbeat, took a deep breath, and opened them again with astonishing calm. He lifted a hand and swung it through the air. The Force sent two of the goons flying through the air and they made gross smacking noises as they crashed into the side of the concession stand. Ben kept his calm still, watching as the third lifted his blaster and pointed it at him.

Without any real change in his own expression, Han whipped his own blaster out and shot him square in the knee cap. The goon went down screaming in pain as he clutched his knee and both Solos turned around though Han kept his blaster at ready.

“So,” Ben said, looking at Plutt again. “We’re going into the sand or you’re giving me the droid.”

BB8 was looking between them all in confusion at the possibility of being rescued, his head whirring around and around. He made a tentative chirp and Ben waved his hand to silence him.

“Hundred credits it is,” Plutt croaked and Han grinned as one of the lackeys in the corner unhooked BB8 from his restraint.

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

Neither of them wanted to linger around Plutt. Not when they’d cheated him from his deal. Han was quick to transfer credits and the moment it was done they rolled BB8 out to the outpost square.

The droid wasn’t happy to be bought and made it known with a series of clicks and whistles that bordered on the insulting. Fed up with being called names in the droid’s rather vulgar language, Ben quickly stooped to look closely at BB8 and it rolled back in fear, bumping into Han’s leg. “You’re Poe Dameron’s?” he asked.

The droid let out a long whistle but agreed.

“You’re coming with us. We’re going to save him,” Han told the droid.

BB8 chirped at him.

“We’re from the Resistance.” Ben pointed at Han. “He knows the General. Check your data banks for Han Solo.”

BB8 was quiet for a moment before making a blasting chirp and rolling forward to bump Han repeatedly in the leg. Han patted it awkwardly and the droid dissolved into a quick ramble about all the excitement he had had recently. Did they know about Poe? Where he was? What about the plans? Did the General want an immediate transfer or would BB8 go to the base of the Resistance? 

The amount of questions the droid rattled off was almost too much but it was another excited set of chirps that made Ben frown.

“What do you mean? You saw her?” he asked the droid. It chirped again and Ben’s frown deepened. “A woman in a black cloak? Like...”

“Probably one of Snoke’s students.” Han looked around the stand where they were attracting attention. “Worry about it later. Let’s get out of here now before we run into any more trouble.” He looked up into the sky as if he could see the fleet of Star Destroyers high above them despite the glaring sunlight. They’d passed them earlier, sneaking in on the offside of the planet but Leia had sent them a warning that there was a fleet waiting on the other side of the planet if they weren’t careful. 

Rumour had it that Snoke’s own flagship was there and the thought of that made Ben feel a sense of foreboding.

Han didn’t seem to notice his son’s sudden reserve. “We’ve got a pilot to rescue,” he said before giving Ben a warm pat on the shoulder and heading off to the Falcon with BB8 on his heels.

Ben looked back at Niima Outpost, at its odd stand of tents, and could have sworn he heard a child crying once again. A ghost of some memory, he thought, and he dismissed it as an odd daydream. Nothing more than that.

* * *

The interrogation chair dug deep into Poe’s spine as he lay propped up there, forcing him to arch his back uncomfortably, and his hands and legs had long since gone numb from the pressure of the cuffs that bound him. Body sticky with sweat and blood, he sucked in a deep breath and tried to focus his blurry vision. His face was a bruised and bloodied mess of scratches and burns from the worst of Hux’s interrogation droid and he had to take deep, gulping breaths to steady himself. It seemed like it was over for now and he tried not to show his relief too openly. With a resolved sigh, he closed his dark eyes and leaned his head back against the stiff metal headrest.

“That the worst you can do?” he asked the ginger man he knew was standing in the corner.

He could practically hear how Hux bristled as if struck. “Rebel scum, I can do—” he began.

“Yeah, I get it. Big scary General who knows how to program a torture droid. Shaking in my boots,” Poe said as he opened his eyes again and stared at Hux. He arched both brows. “You got a supervisor? I’d like to make a complaint.”

Hux gobbed at him. “A complaint?”

“I mean, you’re First Order. I expected better torture than this.”

The General struggled to find his words to counter Poe’s obstinance. “I will make you pay for your…”

“And I get it. Performance issues. We all get them.” Poe grinned around his split lower lip and he glanced at the slatted door. There was a stormtrooper lingering in the hall, watching through the grid, and when he realized Poe was looking at him he looked away, white helmet shimmering in the light. Poe frowned and watched as he picked up a bucket and carried on his way.

“I am talking to you!” Hux snapped.

“Huh?” Poe looked around to see Hux turning an unbecoming shade of red. “Right, the torture. I’m with you, I swear. You’re not boring me at all.”

Judging by how Hux’s lips were now so thin that he looked like he had swallowed them, his sarcasm had been caught. With a snap of his heels, Hux turned around to face the tall silver stormtrooper. “I am going to the bridge. Place two guards to watch him.”

“Of course,” she answered. “Do you want me to attempt…?”

“No. Let him consider his fate.”

* * *

Darth Ceria stared out the viewport of the main bridge and kept every thought blocked from probing. So close to Snoke meant he could drift in and out of her mind if he chose and the fact that she had to allow it made her long for the storms of Exegol. She settled for a form of meditation, drifting in and out of thoughts, letting them pass by without truly considering them. 

But her eyes stayed riveted on the planet below the Star Destroyer. Jakku swam in its dusty, drab colour before her. For a brief moment, her half-mask felt too tight around her lips, the tainted oxygen that flowed through tasted too much like blood, and her vision swam before her. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, slipping back into her training to rein in the sensations flowing through her body. Sensations that felt too much like that some buried memory.

Her grandfather’s voice slipped into her mind,  _ “You lack focus, granddaughter. But no matter. That can be burned into you.” _

The sharp, crisp memory of electrical currents flowing through her body, of a small girl screaming in pain, pleading that she would do it right she swore if only it  _ stopped _ , made her open her eyes and take another deep, altered breath.

She was thankful for her half-mask and its purpose. The apparatus balanced her breathing perfectly and kept her emotions under cold control. She kept her mask on at all times at the bequest of her true Master. It was, as he had told her, feeding her a constant flow of Sith science to keep her strong, to make her even stronger, making her connection to the Dark Side the greatest there ever was. He had given her the mask when she had been fourteen, determining that the air on Exegol had been toxic at times and he wanted her healthy to step forward as his true heir. This mask had saved her life several times in her training and it was a part of her.

The bonus was that it intimidated most of the men and women around her. 

“My Lady,” a tremulous voice ventured behind her. “There was a...ship.”

She focussed her eyes on Jakku. “A ship?” she asked.

“Technicians are thinking it was...is...a passing ship. A junker. We are tracking it and will bring it in the bunker when it reaches range. It appears to be flying without a pilot.”

“And why didn’t we blow it from the sky?” she asked with that deadly calm that made her feel his fear intensify. 

“Because Supreme Leader Snoke has wanted to fly carefully. We are not to alert any on Jakku to our presence,” a new voice said and she did her best not to roll her eyes.

“General Hux,” she said, turning around finally. She saw him flinch at the sight of her face when she did it and it gave her a moment of absolute pride to make him do so. “Why am I surprised?”

“Surprised, Lady Ceria?”

At least he gave her a little bit of deference. Hux was dangerous, a mad dog on a short lead, and she knew sooner or later he might be let off it. He’d target her, she knew, and if she wasn’t careful she might lose her head. But she hadn’t been training with her Grandfather for no reason. Since childhood, she had been learning political and Sith machinations until she could execute them at will without second thought. 

“You are usually more of a man to destroy a thing than wait to see if it has value,” she said, adopting a bored tone. That aggravated him more than anything and it showed in the way his lips grew thinner and his skin mottled.

“The Knights of Ren.” He spat out the titles for the First Order enforcers. “Sent a message for you.”

“I’ll listen later,” she said dismissively, knowing he simply wanted her away from  _ his _ bridge. “What have you learned from the prisoner?”

He did flush deeply this time, a give away, before schooling his features into perfect blankness. “We have not learned anything as of yet but in time we will.”

“We don’t have time for your failure,” she said and he bristled. “I’ll see to it myself.”

“I hardly think this is a matter for a Sith,” he spat out.

“I think it is when the General in charge of the matter is incompetent. Perhaps you would like to involve Supreme Leader Snoke in the matter?” Darth Ceria countered. It made him jerk upright as if she had rammed a rod into his spine and he gave her a stiff nod.

“I will make my guards available to you,” he offered stiffly.

She hissed in a breath. “Excellent.”

* * *

Poe heard the door slide open and caught a glimpse of a storm trooper outside in the hall. Though should have been impossible to tell, he knew this was the trooper from Jakku, the one from before when he had been tortured. It was strange that he was hanging around. Maybe, Poe figured, he was just curious. Or he liked the thought of a rebel being tortured.

Probably the latter. Poe made a few assumptions about storm troopers and he sometimes did loop them in the category of delusional parasites like Hux. 

But before he could think much more on the storm trooper, a slight figure in black appeared. Wearing a thick cowl, black clothing and a mask that covered her mouth, she cut an imposing figure even though she was his own height. Even though he had seen her before, this Lady Ceria intimidated him in a way that he couldn’t explain. Compared to Hux and to some of the burlier guards he had seen around, she shouldn’t have been able to make his skin go into a cold sweat but she did.

It was in her eyes. They were the eyes of a killer and Poe had known enough of those to recognize a killer when he saw one.

She didn’t bother with niceties. “What do you know?”

“Well, I know that mask isn’t doing much for you,” he began and she held up a hand. Something invisible wrapped around his throat and squeezed hard, so hard that he nearly felt like his larynx was being held in a vice, and he choked on his sarcasm.

“I know what you’re doing,” she said with utter calm. “And it doesn’t bother me.”

“No?” he managed.

“No. If anything it makes this so much easier. Simpler. You could even say it makes it more enjoyable.” Her head tilted on the side and her pale skin seemed to shimmer in the dim light. Her eyes though remained hypnotizingly clear of anything but that predatory look. “I want to know what you know.”

The hold on his throat lessened a little. “What makes you think I’ll tell you if I wouldn’t tell Snoke’s pet dog out there? Because you got some scary powers?” he asked.

She stepped around his legs to come to his side and her hand came to gently touch his temple. “Because…” She looked down for a moment then up into his face. “You’re afraid.”

Poe looked into her masked face, struck by the horrible beauty in those eyes. He’d seen snakes with the same look. “I’m not afraid of you,” he said.

Her eyes rolled up to the side a little. “Not just of me,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “You’re afraid of what I could pull from you. Not just plans…” Her touched hardened a little and suddenly he felt her. He felt her inside his head, a shadowy presence that began ripping apart his thoughts and memories. Began sifting them through with razor sharp claws that dug into him. Poe groaned in pain but she ignored him. “You’re worried I might find the darkest secrets you hold. You’ve reason to be afraid. I can pull them all out of you.” 

His eyes met hers again and he stiffened at the way she was looking at him.

“The secrets of you that make you no better than the First Order,” she whispered. “Show me what you’re hiding, Poe Dameron. Give everything to me and the pain will stop.” Her eyes flashed then and he could have sworn they turned a little yellow. “Scream, if you want.”

Despite everything he had in him telling him not to, begging him not to give in, Poe howled in pain as she dove deep into his mind and began to rip out what she wanted from him.


	5. The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han Solo does what he does best while the growing unbalance in the Force begins to take its toll on both Ben Solo and Darth Ceria

The grey hunk of freighter junk really wasn’t something to be looked at, barely worth noticing, and the tracking officer watching it on the screen gave her companion a quick glance. With a quick turn of her chair, she checked to be sure they weren’t about to be overheard by a superior officer, saw only a service trooper maneuvering a cart of garbage toward the nearest chute, and decided she was safe to voice an opinion. After all, that horrible Darth-Something-or-Other or General Stick-up-the-Ass wasn’t around.

“Why are we watching this pile of junk?” she whispered loudly. The other tracker, who had the pasty look of a long-term veteran of the First Order, cleared his throat and wheeled his chair over to hers so that they could talk without being overheard too easily. 

“Apparently there’s rumour of Rebels around here. They’re checking every ship for possible subversives lurking around,” he stage-whispered. “Even pieces of junk like this.”

“It’s still flying, so it can’t be that much of a junker,” the technician decided. “Who is leading the insight into it?”

“The scrappers will go in and pull off pieces we can use and then the rest goes into the junk. Provided they don’t find anyone in there first. Usual directive.”

Together they watched the ship being pulled into the hangar with the slow methodical precision. The entire First Order ran like clock work on some schedule set by the Supreme Leader himself and nothing was ever out of order. They decided not to question any further the motivations of their superiors and went back to checking the ship for any signs of life. Even though they watched for a long time, they were not seeing any movement. 

Neither of them noticed that the stormtrooper behind them had stopped work and was listening intently to their hushed conversation about processing the ship and what it would take in terms of time to cast the ship back out into the void of space with the other garbage.

* * *

Snoke was, on the surface, his usual cold calm, but from where she knelt Darth Ceria could feel him fuming beneath that icy veneer. After she and Hux had delivered their news to him, Snoke had been quiet, so quiet that at her side she could feel Hux twitching in nervousness. As much as it amused her to see Hux twitch like this, she knew that this was a dangerous situation to be in. Snoke was always stoic and reserved but this seemed somehow worse for both of them if beneath it he was like a star about to explode.

“The location of Skywalker was in the head of some lowly pilot.” Snoke inhaled deeply. “He is mocking us.”

“It is possible he has moved on,” Hux said. “That planet is on the off side of the galaxy, far from us.”

“Possible, yes, possible, but…” Snoke exhaled and closed his beady eyes in consideration. He dropped into a meditation so easily that it seemed as if he had forgotten that they were kneeling here, waiting for him.

From her place before him, Darth Ceria idly wondered if she could simply drive her saber into his stomach while he meditated. It wouldn’t be hard though she would have to kill six red-clad guards and Hux after. It would be an interesting challenge though. 

_ Still yourself, it is not time yet, _ her grandfather’s voice soothed.

Snoke’s eyes opened again and pinned her in her place, letting her know he had guessed her thoughts. But he said very softly instead, “Lady Ceria, your thoughts on the matter?”

She took a breath, forgetting her homicidal urges and was pleased he was clearly wanting her opinion. Snoke kept his counsel close and rarely included her, citing his mistrust that her opinion was not balanced and without emotion. He wanted her cold and caluclating but even she had to admit she was anything but that, despite her grandfather’s teachings. 

“He may have moved on from the Hosnian System, as General Hux said. He would have hidden with friends of the Jedi though he has no more students to hide behind.”

“But what do you really think?” Snoke prompted. She felt through the Force that he had drawn the same conclusion she had already and merely wanted her to voice it.

“This would be an excellent time to prove our...power.”

“Attack a Core planet? Are you mad? If we were to attack the Hosnian System so quickly then we could spark a Rebellion that rivals even the Resistance!” Hux demanded but his astonishment was half-hearted. Both Snoke and Darth Ceria could feel his excitement at the possibility of using the Plan on a planet and any would do. “Are we prepared for that?”

“The Rebels have allies in the Republic as well that could do well for a reminder who is the true power in the galaxy. Create an announcement that we are sending a fleet to the Hosnian system. Send them scurrying to Hosnian Prime to whine to the Republic and scrounge for more allies.” She cocked her head on the side and her eyes met Snoke’s. “Meanwhile, our Contingency Plan is in play.”

“Ah yes. I don’t disagree. It is better to destroy them all in one moment than to go about hunting them like the rats they are.”

He raised his hand to Hux. “See to it. Send out warnings to the Republic that their continued Resistance will not be tolerated. Send two of our new prototypes there to test our systems.”

Hux clipped his heels together and bowed a little to the Supreme Leader before moving quickly away, but not before exchanging a snide glance with Darth Ceria. The heated look exchanged could have not been more hate-filled.

As the door slid shut behind him, Darth Ceria rose as well. She had only risen from her knees when Snoke lifted his other hand and sent her back down to her knees with a crashing use of the Force. She hissed in a breath as her knees cracked loudly when they hit the hard floor and she wondered, in an idly pain filled way, if he had broken something.

“You are...defiant,” Snoke said and she didn’t answer, too absorbed in keeping any sign of the sharp pain she was in stifled. She knew what it would cost if she screamed. Snoke considered her for a moment. “Something is troubling you. Keeping you unbalanced. I sense your—” His head tilted at her. “Conflict.”

“I am not conflicted.”

“What is it you hope to learn from hunting Skywalker? I merely want the destruction of the Jedi. However you? I sense you want something more from him.”

Answers, she thought before she could clear her mind and Snoke heard the thought loud and clear between them. His hand lifted higher and she choked on the very air around him as he squeezed the Force about her throat.

“Answers, Lady Ceria? What could you possible seek to learn that you have not learned at the hand of the Sith? From me?” He stared hard at her before he rose from his throne, walking very slowly until his long angular frame loomed over her. She kept her head bent and gasped for air as he released the choke-hold. 

“What answers do you seek?” With a quick strike, his hand suddenly dove into her hood and forced her head to tilt back, her chestnut hair spilling out about her face. He bent close. “When I met you on Coruscant, a newly arrived whelp of a girl, I saw such raw untamed potential. Even with all the training of your grandfather, you were still unpredictable. The kind of challenge all Masters look for, to craft a weapon from such untempered metal. But you do not devote yourself as you should.” He leaned very close so she could smell the sweet mint on his breath. “You have become unbalanced.”

His fingers dove deeper into her hair, curled the tendrils within his long fingers, and wrenched her head back so that she could see only into his eyes. His face was now swimming before her vision and he began to reach into her mind.

“We shall correct that.”

* * *

“This has to be one of your worst plans, and that’s saying something,” Ben whispered to his father from inside the smuggling compartment they’d hidden in. The Falcon was quiet. Eerily so.

“I’ll have you know this plan worked before,” Han whispered back smugly from where he stood, listening to the clipping footsteps above.

“When?”

Han cleared his throat, a little disgruntled. “Thirty years ago, give or take.”

“Thirty—!” Ben forgot himself and almost stood up from his crouch but Han shoved him down and gestured with his hand for him to shut up. The younger Solo scoffed instead and remained in his crouch for bone-aching minutes, aware he was too tall to properly fit in these compartments like his father and he wondered how in the Galaxy Chewie did it so often. 

The footsteps faded away and they could hear distant commands being given. “So what’s the plan?” Ben whispered to his father.

“Slip out. I’m going to depend on you for this one, you’re younger. Chewie will keep the ship ready to escape and keep the guards off the ship, while you and I will slip in. Be easier without a Wookie beside us. Trust me, Chewie won’t want to be a prisoner again.”

A distant rumble let them know Chewie had heard and was not happy he couldn’t be there. But Han was already carefully removing the lid from their compartment and popping his head out. “Coast is clear,” he whispered and Ben untangled himself to pull up. He helped his father out and then Chewie.

“We meet back here in two hours. Might take us that long to find this pilot of Leia’s,” Han instructed. “Chewie?” The Wookie rumbled again but didn’t speak. “I know, buddy, but trust me, you can take care of anyone who comes on here.”

“Just rip their arms off, right?” Ben asked as he grabbed his dual blaster holsters and pulled on his black cowl. “Who is leading?”

“You. I’ll follow.”

Ben nodded and headed down the ramp carefully. Two guards stood at the head of the ramp and were so deep in conversation that they didn’t notice Ben or Han slipping up behind them. It was quick and easy to knock them out and haul them back with Chewie. It was a relief, to Ben, that Han didn’t want him to dress up but his father was quick to strip down the guard and slide into the trooper gear over his own clothing.

The sight of Han Solo dressed as a stormtrooper made Ben snort and struggle not to laugh but the laugh died when Han slapped a pair of cuffs on him and took his blaster holsters from him. “Not so funny now, huh?” Han asked as he slung the holsters over his shoulder.

Ben glared at his father. “I hate this plan already.”

* * *

Poe groaned as he lay on a hard slab that was supposed to be a bed. In the dark quarters, the only thing he could see was his own hands and feet. His entire body ached and he wasn’t sure it was just from the bed. “I’m gonna bring that up to management. This hotel is the worst I’ve been in,” he muttered. “Ok, Poe, you got yourself into this, you can get yourself out of it.”

His head hurt so much though and he couldn’t remember why it hurt. Problem was, Poe really couldn’t remember much of the past seventy two hours. There was something he was supposed to remember, he knew that much, but what was it? Something about the Resistance. Something about...Leia?

The only thing he really remembered was that woman’s horrible mask making a hissing noise and the intensity of her gaze. She had ripped into his mind. What had she done to him?

His door slid open with a bump and a stormtrooper looked in. “You’re coming with me,” was the gruff order and a pair of cuffs were produced.

“What’s this? Execution time?” Poe asked.

The stormtrooper said nothing but gestured for him to rise. It wouldn’t do him any good to fight back, Poe knew that and he offered his hands. It was all a blur, the way that they were moving so fast his head spun, but he was marched down from the detention centre he was in towards the “execution block” apparently. The stormtrooper said nothing to him, just kept his blaster pointed into Poe’s back. It dug deep and he kept his pace up to keep from being jabbed too deeply

It was a bit surprising when he was suddenly hauled left and into a stand of electrical units near a garbage chute. It was dark and secluded and Poe guessed that this was going to be his execution spot. It was a pretty bad ending for the star pilot of the Resistance to be murdered like this and he resented it deeply. He should at least have some fanfare.

But before he could open his mouth, the stormtrooper whispered at him, “This is a rescue.”

No, that couldn’t be right.

“Wait, a what?” Poe whispered back. “How—”

The stormtrooper bent and removed his helmet, revealing a handsome young man with dark skin and close cropped hair. He looked away from Poe to check the corridor before looking back at Poe. It was his eyes that struck Poe though; his eyes were too kind to be a brainwashed First Order stormtrooper. The stormtrooper looked left and right nervously. “I’m FN-2187 and I’m here to rescue you,” he said in a hushed voice.

“Rescue me?” Poe repeated. He had to be hallucinating again. “No offense but I mean this isn’t a great plan.”

“It’s the only plan I have. We need to get you out,” FN-2187 said.

“You’re just going to walk me out of here?” Poe chuckled. “Really bad plan. Suicidal even.”

“Look, I need your help,” FN-2187 whispered, “and you need mine.”

It wasn’t hard to catch on. The stormtrooper was going AWOL. He couldn’t see anything wrong with that. “You need a pilot,” Poe guessed. “Don’t you?”

The younger man looked sheepish. “Yeah, I need a pilot.”

Poe blew out a stream of air, then shrugged before grinning charmingly at FN-2187. “Had worse offers, let’s go.”

* * *

“You know,” Ben commented as they walked, “Mom wouldn’t like this plan.”

“She’d approve. Stop trying to weasel out of it,” Han’s modulated voice ordered as he nudged his son with a blaster and led him onto an elevator. He reached up to tap the buttons. They’d managed to slip through the ranks of stormtroopers with the guise of Ben being a prisoner from another star destroyer and no one had questioned it. Then again they hadn’t seen an officer who knew about the Falcon being in the hangar yet. 

The only real problem was that they didn’t know where to go from here. It was all based on Han’s instincts and Ben had had too much experience with that sometimes.

Han shook his head as he tapped in a command to the elevator. “I’d kill to use a droid right now.”

“That BB unit is in the hold. Could have brought him.”

“These ships are easy to guess,” Han continued, “but try to look a bit more like you’ve lost all hope.”

“Yeah, because that’s what Solos are like. Didn’t you say to Uncle Lando you love a hopeless cause?” Ben muttered at his father.

“If you could just for once go with the plan instead of second-guessing everything, my life would be easier.”

Another elevator whizzed by them and the sound it made caused Ben to glance left. His eyes widened and he thought back to the data message Leia had given them. “Uh, Dad,” he said when he caught sight of the occupants through the tempered glass as the elevator went down while his went up. 

He reached through the Force and felt a shimmer. There it was; it was...Force-sensitive. How strange to find that on a Star Destroyer filled with First Order soldiers.

“Even now you’re probably going to argue with me, aren’t you?” Han asked, tapping his helmeted head again. Ben knew he hated being confined but that wasn’t what had caught his attention.

“Dad!” Ben jostled him with his free arm. “Poe Dameron just went down.”

“Wait, what?” Han slapped the stop on the controls and the elevator screeched to a halt just a few floors up from the level they’d just left.

“I could have sworn I just saw Poe Dameron going down with a trooper.”

“And we’re...kid, why didn’t you say it sooner?” Han asked.

A crackle over the PA startled them both and they glanced at each other as a new older male voice demanded, “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Han said, “just...had a problem with a prisoner.”

There was silence and then the officer on the other side cleared his throat. “What prisoner?”

“Just a transfer,” Han said.

“What prisoner? Relay your number and ID immediately,” the officer ordered.

“Number, uh, uh…” Han exchanged a look with his son who shrugged and raised his cuffed hands a little. He couldn’t help come up with a story as easily as his father could. Han shrugged. “Ah, damn it.”

He grabbed the issued blaster and shot a round into the console, causing the elevator doors to open in response to the emergency. Han quickly uncuffed his son and tossed him his own blaster holsters. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way,” he said as he headed out the door.

“Is there any other way you do things?” Ben quipped back at him as he buckled his holsters onto his legs before following him out of the elevator. 

It was the sudden sound in his ears, like the whooshing of waves, that made him freeze one step out of the elevator. He stared at the back of his father’s head without really seeing the salt-and-pepper grey hair, without seeing anything but the hallway shadows. The world suddenly seemed to be plummeting through a vacuum and even his heart felt like it had clenched. He felt as if someone had ripped him down at the seams and thrown him to separate sides of the ship all at once.

“You with me?” Han’s voice snapped him out of it and he looked up to see his father staring at him, one hand on his shoulder as the other touched his cheek. “Hey, with me?”

Blinking his eyes rapidly, Ben shook his head to clear it. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m with you.”

The intense feeling of being split in two ebbed a little as Han patted his cheek. “Come on, let’s go get our pilot.”

* * *

Darth Ceria picked herself up from the slab where she had been lying with a groan, spitting out a mouthful of blood as she forced herself to rise. Her skin was still prickling from the electrical currents that had flowed through it. Somehow she had been transported back unconscious to her rooms and she vaguely remembered Snoke’s admonishing words, the pain of her body being wracked and tortured by unseeable hands, and with a shake of her head, she ran her fingers through her hair. Surprisingly, she wasn’t badly hurt. There was nothing broken and no lacerations.

A droid must have tended to most of her wounds and she supposed she should be thankful for Snoke’s brief moments of kindnesses.

A buzz through her intercom made her wave her hand to the side, summoning her comlink to her side. “What is it?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“There’s been an intruder alert on all levels.” Hux sounded too calm. He almost sounded pleased. As if this was a failure of hers.

“When?”

“Within the last hour. The Rebel prisoner Dameron has gone missing.” He paused and she knew he was listening to someone. “It appears someone is trying to rescue him. Snoke wants you to find him immediately and proceed with your plans.”

She wiped at her bloody lips, stared at the ruby droplets on her palm, and nodded to herself. “Where was he last seen?”

“On detention level three. In the escort of a stormtrooper. He has gone missing.”

She searched her memory for possibilities and settled on one very glaring one. “The stormtrooper from Jakku. FN-2187. Track him. Send for Phasma and get a report on him immediately.”

She clicked off the comlink and rose to her feet. A sudden change in her equilibrium slashed through her head and the room began to spin around, the hollow ringing sound in her ears so loud that she had to shake her head. That strange feeling of being off-balance had her almost sinking back down to her slab.

“You’re stronger than this,” she snapped to the empty room. Darth Ceria reached out and her lightsaber flew to her hand from where a droid had placed it upon her stand. She would handle this and then discover the reason behind this strange unbalancing that was settling deep inside her. She would burn that feeling from her before it did more damage.

* * *

FN-2187 knew the ins and outs of the Star Destroyer halls better than most stormtroopers and it was a lucky thing he did. Poe noticed how confidently he led the way even though the stormtrooper did seem very nervous underneath that swagger of his. He constantly talked to himself, telling himself to be brave, that he had to do this, and Poe didn’t really have the heart to be sarcastic over it like he usually would be. He understood how frightened this stormtrooper likely was. Even though he paraded Poe around as if he was confident, his fingers on Poe’s arm trembled.

“Have you ever flown a freighter?” he whispered to Poe and the pilot shrugged.

“I can fly anything.”

“Good. Good.” FN-2187 nodded. “Good. Good good.”

“You’re not going to faint on me, are you?” Poe asked in a low voice.

“Maybe. I mean no but…” They came face to face with a group of troopers and he felt the man at his side stiffen. Suddenly the hold on his arm jerked and a blaster was shoved into Poe’s ribcage. “Quiet, Rebel scum!”

The troopers all looked at FN-2187 and let him pass down the hall with nods. Poe smirked to himself and was almost caught off balance when he was shoved into another alcove. He was blocked away from sight and he took the moment to try to clear his head. The remnants of that torture still burned through his body and he was so exhausted he was ready to collapse down.

“We need to wait here,” FN-2187 whispered. “The hangar guard changes in approximately five minutes.”

“You sure about this?” Poe asked. “There’s no going back.”

The large black eye sockets of the stormtrooper helmet looked into his face and he could easily envision the frightened young man behind it. “I’m sure. I can’t do this anymore,” was said with so much hope that Poe didn’t think twice.

“Then we go together. What do I call you?”

The stormtrooper looked away. “I don’t have a name. I’m a number. FN-2187.”

Poe blinked. “Everyone deserves a name. FN...Finn. We’re calling you Finn.”

The stormtrooper looked at him. For a moment he hesitated then nodded. “Finn. I like it.”

Poe grinned and was aware that he felt a strange kinship with this mutinying stormtrooper. It actually made him hopeful as well that things might turn out okay.

Before the odd little moment could continue, a blaster was suddenly pressed directly to FN-2187’s head. A second stormtrooper had appeared in the alcove and his gunhand was steady. Poe backed up as far as he could, keeping his cuffed hands up.

“Look, I…”

“We’ve been looking for you,” the trooper interrupted before Poe could try to charm him.

FN-2187 put his hands up in the air. “Sorry,” he said to Poe as an aside.

“Did your best. I was ready to die.”

“Wait, what?” The trooper lowered his gun a little. “You two know each other?”

“Maybe, who are you?” Poe demanded.

The trooper sighed and removed his own helmet to reveal an older man in his sixties, grey haired and a little worn at the edges. “Han Solo. I was told to save you by the General.”

“The General!” Poe turned to him. “She knows I’m here?”

“Of course she does. Why else am I here risking my neck for a flyboy and his…” He looked at FN-2187 curiously. “Who’re you?”

“Finn. This is Finn,” Poe said. “He was breaking me out.”

“Well, that’s different.” Han rested his blaster down and holstered it.

“It is?” Poe asked.

“More the merrier,” Han said. “So let’s get to the Falcon.”

“Wait, that hunk of junk is yours?” Finn asked, his modulated voice incredulous. “You actually flew that thing?”

“Hey, watch it, kid. That hunk of junk made the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs once.” Han looked around. He groaned and his hand rested on his hip. “Where is he?”

“Who?” Finn asked. “You have a crew? Some sort of rescue operation? Soldiers?”

His eagerness made Han’s response a little disappointing. “My son. He was right behind me but we got separated. Happens sometimes. He gets to wandering.” Han shrugged. “Let’s get you on the Falcon. I know he’ll meet us there.”

“Your son?” Poe snapped his fingers and Finn was quick to undo the cuffs. “Wait, you’re General Organa’s husband! I heard about you. That means…”

“Are we going to chat all day or am I rescuing you?” Han demanded of Poe, his voice sharp and commanding.

“Well, I mean, I was rescuing him first,” Finn interrupted and the older man rounded on him.

“And you had a plan?” Han asked. “What? Sneak around and hope no one noticed?”

“What was your plan?” Finn countered innocently. 

Han glared at him instead of answering and gave the hallway a quick look. 

“Good question,” a deep voice commented from the other side of the alcove. They all jumped, Han and Finn both raising their blasters, and turned to face the new arrival who was in a cowl and dark brown clothing. The cowl was shoved back and Ben Solo grinned at his father. “I was making sure the way was clear.” 

He looked at the other two men. “So you found them.”

“Wasn’t hard.” Han looked into the hall again. “I’m not as rusty as I thought I was.”

His son chose to ignore that. “Come on. Guard is changing over,” Ben said. “We’re almost clear.” 

* * *

The hangar when they entered had a hollow feeling, the guard changing over quickly. Finn supported Poe as he staggered a little, still weak, and they followed the Solos until the coast was clear. Han was quick to sprint across the hangar floor, going from storage to storage as he continued muttering about things being too easy, and he slipped up the ramp when it was clear he was safe from notice. Poe and Finn went next with Ben tailing them and they nearly made it when Poe’s legs gave up. Chewie appeared, startling Finn so bad he backed up into Ben. The taller man shoved him forward and Chewie bent to pick up Poe. 

“Get him to the med bay,” Ben instructed. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“ _ He smells burnt,” _ Chewie growled.

“What is this thing?” Finn whispered to Ben who ignored him.

“Probably the torture. Least he’s still awake,” Ben said, ignoring Finn. “This one is coming with us too.”

Chewie looked down at Finn. “ _ Can he handle a blaster?” _

“Knowing a stormtrooper...might need some help,” Ben muttered. He had one foot on the ramp when something touched him, like a finger tap on the shoulder.

He hesitated. It was a feeling he had, one like many others that had distracted him in the course of his life. Like his uncle and his mother, those feelings never proved him wrong. Except this one wasn’t one of foreboding. Those he had had so many times before that he never really noticed he reacted to them anymore.

No. This feeling was as if he’d been split down the middle. 

“I’ll be just a second,” he said to Chewie. The Wookie glanced at him, still carrying Poe over a shoulder, and gave a concerned growl. “I know Dad wants me right back but trust me.”

Despite Finn’s protests that they had to get moving, Chewie shrugged and continued down the hall while Ben turned around and stared at the massive doors leading to the interior of the Stary Destroyer. He heard the  _ stamp-stamp _ of feet on the grid nearby and he looked up to see lines of troops coming down the stairs. They’d be here soon enough. Still he stood there, waiting. Something told him he had to wait and see what was coming. He needed to know what was happening to him. 

Soft sounds, like a whisper of cloth on metal, distracted him and he looked left as all the air in the room seemed to grow colder. Ben turned around fully and faced what the Force was warning him about.

A figure in black stood in the shadows of the hangar and they were not flanked by any stormtroopers. Their hood was pulled low over their face, hiding them from sight. Whoever it was stared at him, not moving at first, and Ben’s hand drifted to his thigh, ready to pull his first blaster out. They’d done so well in getting out of here without a fight. His father had never had it so good before. It had been sheer luck.

“ _ Hello, young Solo,” _ a voice whispered in his head and he shook his head. It hadn’t come from the figure in the shadows. That voice had been the sort of nightmares, of meditations gone horribly wrong. A voice he had begged his older Master to help him escape. “ _ How I have longed to find you.” _

Instinctively, he knew that the words weren’t spoken by the figure in the shadows. Their arrival merely heralded the words spoken and how they saturated the very around him with the Dark Side.

Ben’s fingers deftly unbuckled his holster and his fingers caressed the hilt of his blaster.

The figure moved their hand and grasped a weapon at their side. There was the hum and snarl of a lightsaber turning on and with a flick of their wrist it extended into two pieces that joined together at the centre. Two blades, crimson as blood, swung outward into a staff. The harsh light filled the shadows, slid into the hood the figure wore, and Ben realized he must be looking at a human woman.

“Now, kid!” Han shouted from the ramp and Ben glanced behind him. When he looked forward again, the figure hadn’t moved. Instead, the lightsaber was being rotated with a hypnotizing slowness. It was as if she was considering charging at him. 

“We’ll do this later,” he said to the figure before backing away just as the stormtroopers coming down the stairs opened fire without really taking aim. He returned fire without looking away from the figure and he heard the loud roar of the Falcon’s engines revving. Its own guns turned with a clank and shot off a round too close to Ben. It snapped him out of his thoughts of a coming duel and he sprinted for the ramp at the obvious warning he was being given. 

He slammed his palm on the ramp’s switch and it closed with a hiss as the Falcon began to hover in the air.

“Chewie! Get her moving!” he shouted. 

“Get your butt in here, kid, I don’t got time for your daydreaming,” Han yelled back and Ben ran for the cockpit. He passed Poe in the hold, looking ill and faint, and BB8 was chirping excitedly at him even though his master seemed to not notice the little droid. He noticed that the stormtrooper was headed for the cockpit as well. Rudely he shoved by him and dropped into the seat behind his father. 

“What’s the plan? Corellian manuevars?” he asked as Finn quickly took the spot behind Chewie.

“Nope.”

“Smuggler’s? Kessel?”

“Nope.”

“Dad, come on, you have to have…”

“Hold tight,” Han warned as he threw a few switches. 

Chewie and Ben both looked at him. “ _ You can’t jump to hyperspace like this!”  _ Chewie roared. “ _ You’ll rip apart the Falcon _ !”

Finn flinched beside Ben as the human and Wookie began to argue. “What did he say?” Finn asked loudly.

“Just watch me! Punch it, Chewie!” Han shouted and obediently the Wookie hit the buttons in succession before driving the lever forward. 

The Falcon made a choking noise before clunking and Han turned very slowly to look at Ben who put his hands in the air. “I fixed it, don’t look at me,” the younger Solo snapped before reaching around Finn and slamming his palm onto the electrical unit. “Try it again!”

The Falcon’s entire frame shook from the force of his blow it seemed and the lights blasted on. The starlit stream of hyperspace zoomed in and the Falcon blasted out of the hangar with seconds to spare as the stormtroopers opened fire on her.

* * *

Darth Ceria watched from her place in the hangar even as TIE Fighters took off in pursuit of the freighter. She heard Hux arriving with the clamour of troopers at his side but she only watched the TIEs disappearing from her sight. She hadn’t moved a muscle yet and no General was about to move her from her place watching the escape of the First Order prey.

“How can you just stand there!” Hux roared in fury but she only smiled to herself beneath her half-mask.

“They won’t get far,” she said, her voice so modulated it betrayed nothing. 

“How can you be so sure?” Hux snapped and he gestured at two troopers to supervise the clear up the mess of dead bodies around them left over from the Falcon’s guns.

Reaching into her robes, Darth Ceria drew out a blinking blue ball. Her eyes darted over the light and then up at Hux’s pale face. She depressed a button on the side and a small map was thrown into relief in the air. Once it had loaded, it showed the pathway of the freighter across the stars, jumping along a hyperspace route it was carving out in the darkness.

“Do you really think I was going to allow the escape of the Rebels? This will bring us to their nearest hiding spot if we follow their tracks. When we find them, we will destroy them,” she said before tossing him the tracking ball. “Be a good dog and have my ship prepared. I will take a squad and follow that freighter. No doubt the Resistance sent someone of value to rescue that idiot pilot.”

Despite her insult, Hux’s face took on an expression of cruel pleasure as he gave her a curt nod and turned to his squad. Satisfied that he would do as ordered, Darth Ceria turned away and stared out into the immensity of space. Though she had just created the means to the Rebel’s destruction, she could not account for the hard ball of unease settling deep in her mind.

_ Who was that man? _


	6. HyperSpace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bunch of boys on a space ship, really.

As the stars streamed by in the haphazardly chosen hyperspace lane, Han slapped the consol and stood up, turning to pin Finn with a look. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” he warned, eyes darting to Chewie who shrugged with a growl.

Finn put his hands in the air, the helmet he’d been carrying toppling to the ground forgotten. “Hey, man, I’m…” It then occurred to Finn that people didn’t know him or who he was. The best move here was to play it off. He could be anyone he wanted to be and no one would know the difference. He could be safe. With a sniff, he rubbed his hand across his sweated cheek and tried hard to look intimidating. “You know, in the First Order, I was a big deal. Before I decided to change sides, that is.”

Ben snorted beside him but Han’s expression didn’t change. If anything, his scowl deepened and Finn shrank back a little in reaction. “So, Big Deal,” Han said in a suspiciously soft voice, “explain why you’re running from the First Order.”

That made the young stormtrooper hesitate. He looked at the other two men and the Wookie and took a very deep breath. “You never run from something that you knew was wrong?”

That made Han straighten up a little and Chewie chortled out a chuckle.

“Don’t start Chewie. But yeah, Big Deal’s got me there,” Han answered. Then he looked at Ben who didn’t seem particularly interested. “What do you think?”

“I think we’ve made worse choices. Kid might be useful,” Ben said.

“Kid? I’m not a kid!” Finn argued. “How old are you anyway?

That earned him matching looks from the Solos that bordered on annoyed. “Whatever you are,” Ben said, “you’re not what you seem. What were you in the First Order anyway? Infantry?”

Finn flushed under his directness and mumbled, “Janitorial detail. Sometimes I helped with Infantry.”

Ben started to chuckle but Han swatted his shoulder to shut him up. “That’s why you knew the routes and schedules,” he declared and Finn nodded. Han gave him an impressed smile. “Glad we met you then.”

Finn visibly basked in the praise, beaming at the elder Solo.

Han glanced at Ben who shrugged. “We’re going to need to chat but right now we need to see how that pilot is doing. Get in touch with the Resistance, Chewie, patch them through and tell them where we’re headed.”

“Why? Where are we headed?” Finn asked but he was ignored.

“I’ll do it,” Ben offered but Han was already squeezing past him. He paused to tap his son’s shoulder/ 

“You’re with us.”

Finn met Ben’s eyes as he stood from his own seat and was confused by the hard look in the bigger man’s eyes. But without another word of complaint, Ben slipped by him and together they headed after Han. The Falcon was rattling away as she flew the route Han had put her on and Han mumbled to Ben he’d need to do some patchwork soon. Poe was sitting at the Dejarik table, slumped over with his head in his arms. BB8 was letting out low, concerned whistles at him that he ignored and Han shushed the droid as he dropped into the seat at the mapping console. 

“No need to thank me,” he groused when Poe didn’t look up, “just doing my job.”

“I mean we could have been killed,” Finn began in a way that wasn’t really helpful.

“Only because you were trying to spring a pilot with no plan,” Han corrected. Oddly, Ben was silent as he took a seat opposite Poe, leaving Finn to stand.

“He saved my life,” Poe said, voice muffled from where his head was cradled. “Give the guy a break.”

“We’ve got bigger problems,” Han said, “because the First Order won’t just let us escape easily. If I know them, and I do, they’ll be on us fast.”

“What route are we on?” Poe asked as he wiped at his still bloody nose and lifted his head.

“Going to visit an old friend but we’ve got some time. So get explaining. What are you hiding for Leia?” Han asked.

BB8 let loose with a series of low whistles and Ben glanced at the droid. It looked up at him and for some reason it rolled back a bit. BB8 let out a long, low whistle causing Poe to glance at the droid as well and frown before looking up at Ben.

“Haven’t seen you in a long time,” he remarked after a moment. “We were just kids.”

“Probably for the best you didn’t see me growing up,” Ben said. He was focussed on the mission though with an intensity to his very posture that made Poe straighten up and take notice. “What’s going on, Dameron?”

“Oh the usual,” Poe said, trying to be dismissive. “War, Rebellion, Fascists.”

“Poe, now,” Han ordered. “We just risked everything to get you out of there and now we’re on the run. I want to know what my wife is up to and up against. She was clearly worried enough she sent you on a scouting mission that bordered on suicidal.”

There was a moment’s hesitation then Poe shrugged. “Fine.” He slipped from his seat and knelt down to tap BB8 on his round body. “Alright, buddy, time to show them.”

The droid rolled back and beeped at him.

“They’re here to help. We don’t have a choice,” Poe argued.

Another long whistle that sounded disbelieving even to Finn who didn’t understand droid at all.

“Show us, BB8. Let them see too,” Poe told the droid with a tone that didn’t give any quarter. Giving another beep, BB8 obediently rolled forward and his projector shimmered to life, shining brilliant blue lights in the air around them. It took them a few moments to piece apart what they were seeing: it was the plans for a new type of ship and these were the scaling and construction plans. Not as massive as a Death Star nor was it anything they had seen before in the banks of the Empire recovered by the New Republic. The logistics of it were simple enough. It looked like a Dreadnought to Han’s experienced eye.

“A Star Destroyer?” Ben asked as he stood up among the plans and ran his fingers over the nose of the ship hanging in the air.

“Not quite. BB8, scroll forward in the intel.” The droid chirped and Poe sighed. “These are friends. Show them.”

The map zoomed in until it was showing the massive structure on the bottom of the Star Destroyer, something made even Han lean forward. “What is that?” he asked. “Doesn’t look like a docking bay.”

“It looks…” Ben looked at Finn. “Wanna give some input here?”

“I don’t know. I heard whispers though. Stories of workers gone missing to work on a secret planet in the Outer Reaches. A place...” Finn shrugged. “They were just stories.”

“Stories?” Ben repeated. “What kind of stories?”

“No worker has ever returned from the planet. All I heard was that if you were chosen for that detail you weren’t coming back.”

Poe cleared his throat. “It’s a lot of firepower, is all I know. I was hoping to get it to the Resistance to decipher the plans. It’s all encoded with something I can’t read or understand. I mean, look at the languages. It’s just gibberish to me and even BB8 has no clue as to what is written on it.”

As the other three men began to bicker about getting to the Resistance, who had an ever moving base these days, Ben was staring at the plans hard. He murmured to himself, tapping the map here and there as if memorizing the plans themselves, before settling on the section that held instructions and plans. His brow furrowed and he racked his memory for why this looked so familiar.

Suddenly, he took a deep breath and shook his head, abruptly turning his back on the plans. Han watched him move out of the room back to the cockpit but he forced himself to keep his attention on Poe and Finn.

“Whatever it does,” Poe explained, “it’s called the Contingency. It must be bad for the First Order to be ready to use it. Rumour was it was being on display soon enough. They’re moving something like this through hyperspace.”

“We never heard of anything called the Contingency in the ranks,” Finn protested. “It’s probably just a plan made by the Supreme Leader.”

“No.” Han shook his head. “No, if something like this is having plans then knowing the First Order they’ve already begun building it. Might even be testing it already and we just haven’t noticed.”

Before Finn could respond Chewie walked in, growling to himself. “What is it?” Han asked.

“ _ Ben kicked me out of the cockpit. He’s upset. Smells like he’s angry. Or afraid,”  _ Chewie responded.

“Kriff, better take care of that.” Han stood up from his seat. “Chewie, get the pilot something for those wounds. And Big Deal?”

Finn looked at him eagerly and Han looked him up and down. “Get changed. We’ll find you some spare clothing somewhere. I don’t want a stormtrooper walking around the Falcon. Gives me the creeps,” Han said before heading for the cockpit.

Alone again, Poe and Finn exchanged a long look between them while Chewie went to the med kit. “Thanks, for breaking me out,” Poe said finally, clearing his throat a few times.

Finn looked down at his white armour, stained with smoke and a bit of blood. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled. “I was doing the right thing.”

“Not a lot of people would have.” Poe reached out and put his hand on Finn’s forearm. “So thank you. It was the bravest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

Finn flushed a little under the praise. “It was nothing,” he repeated.

“It was something,” Poe said in a lowered voice, staring hard at Finn. The stormtrooper looked up into his face, startled by the intensity of Poe’s gaze, and couldn’t look away.

It was Chewie who grumbled out a few growls that neither of them understood but it broke them apart with a jerk. Chewie looked between them and rolled his eyes before setting a bottle down before Poe and Finn. He growled a few more times. Despite the gap in the language, it was clear that he was telling that it was time to repair the damage the First Order had done to the pilot. 

* * *

“You wanna talk?” Han asked his son as he took a seat in the captain’s chair. Ben had taken his usual seat with one long leg propped up on the console and he was biting into his thumbnail as he considered the hyperspace lane around them. In his other hand he was shifting Han’s lucky dice about, rolling them over the back of his palm and catching them before doing it all over again. It was a sure sign that he was agitated. “Or is this some secret thing? You do like to brood.”

His son didn’t take the bait to banter with him and that alarmed Han more than anything else might have.

“I know where the plans came from. Or who wrote them,” Ben said in a strained voice. “I can’t read them... but it’s a feeling.”

“A feeling? What kind of feeling?” Han asked. Something about Ben’s pause had made him suspicious that his son was hiding something

Ben closed his eyes and searched his feelings quickly. “We can’t read it because the language is forbidden. It should be dead.”

“What language?” Han demanded, his voice rough with worry. He hadn’t seen Ben so troubled in years. Not since he had picked the kid up from Luke’s on dark night with a terrified Leia at his side. Then he had been swept into an embrace by a boy just on the edge of being a man and been held so tight, with such desperation, that he had never wanted to let his son go ever again.

Ben sighed and ran his hand over his jaw. “I need to find Luke.”

“Ben!” Han ordered and his son flinched. “You need to tell me what is going on.”

Ben hesitated then looked at him. “Sith. It’s Sith.”

* * *

Poe was sleeping in a bunk, zonked out with so many painkillers that it would have knocked out a Wookie. The Wookie who had taken care of him had been a little less than apologetic about knocking Poe out and Ben hadn’t been troubled. Instead, the younger Solo had gone to find things to fix on the Falcon, which with the freighter there always tended to be something to fix. 

Seated at the Dejarik table, Han rolled his dice between his fingers and stared at nothing in particular, so lost in thought that when Finn joined him he barely noticed. The young man cleared his throat a few times until Han jerked and looked at him. He gave the once-stormtrooper a once over, taking in the black trousers and shirt, before shrugging and putting his dice in his pocket.

“You look better.”

Finn took a seat beside him and looked at the space where the plans had once been. “So, what got your son all upset? Ghosts or something?”

Han sighed. “Ben’s a lot of things but easily spooked isn’t one of them. He’s got reasons for being so cautious.” He looked at Finn then shrugged. “He thinks those plans the First Order are working from are from the Sith.”

“Sith? What...is that real?” Finn asked.

Han looked at him. “You really aren’t up on the history, are you?”

“We’re told what to think in the First Order.”

“Ah. That makes sense,” Han agreed.

“I mean, besides, how would Ben even know?”

“Ben was trained by his uncle to become a Jedi. I think he was...eighteen? Nineteen maybe when his training ended.”

Finn leaned forward, eyes wide. “He’s a Jedi?” he asked. “Doesn’t seem very Jedi to me. Aren’t they all peaceful and calm? Mystical and wise?”

Han snorted. “Not exactly. Ben didn’t complete his training.”

“What? Why not?” Finn asked, genuinely curious about the quiet young man who’d been so oddly intense in the few hours he had known him. Fact was, everything about Ben was odd and out of place. He just didn’t seem to fit. Finn wasn’t sure why he had that feeling that Ben was maybe just as lost as he was. It was just a feeling. Finn had those sometimes and he dismissed it just as quickly.

“That’s not for me to say. He’s been with me ever since. Ten years about we’ve been running the routes. Helping the Resistance smuggle in supplies sometimes.”

“So the Resistance does have the Jedi. There were whispers.” Finn cocked his head on the side. “Who’s his uncle?”

Han gave him an unimpressed look. “Big Deal, to be honest I don’t trust you enough to say if you can’t guess.”

“Jedi...I mean, there were stories about the Jedi. About Luke Skywalker when he defeated the Emperor, but I mean... he’s a legend,” Finn said.

Han was saved by answering as a very groggy Poe dropped into the seat next to Finn. He leaned on him and gave them both a woozy smile. He had been listening closely despite the sedatives and he fixed his dark eyes on Han again.

“So that’s what I’m hearing from you both. We do have a Jedi in our ranks,” Poe said. “I know we need Luke but he’s been avoiding the Resistance. I last heard he was in the Hosnian system but who knows anymore. We need the Jedi badly, at least as a symbol for the Republic...for the Resistance.” He nodded as if that solved everything. “So your son Ben…”

Han stopped that train of thought quickly. “He won’t.” 

“Why not?” Poe and Finn asked together. 

Han gave them both a bleak, sad look. “Because he thinks if he returns to the Force, as a Jedi, then the path to the Dark Side will open to him again and he won’t be able to come back from it.”

* * *

Finn sensed, more than saw, Ben moving around the Falcon. He stomped around and the emotion rolling off of the younger Solo was volatile. Han avoided them all with Chewie, plotting a route. Wisely, Finn kept to the table with Poe until avoiding Ben Solo became unavoidable. Poe had been quiet, leaning his head on the table and breathing deeply. He clearly was too out of it to notice when Ben popped his head in and cleared his throat.

“You, trooper,” Ben said. “Need your help.”

“Me?” Finn asked, pointing at his own chest.

“Who else? Dameron’s out of it and I need help. Come on.” 

Ben turned and left and Finn was quick to follow him down the hall to a crackling unit lying open in the wall. “We need to fix this,” Ben said as he patted the Falcon’s wall, “before she starts coming apart. Knowing our luck, Dad will land us in an asteroid field and we’ll be gone for anyway.”

They worked in silence, Ben calling out for tools and Finn providing them, for some time before Finn’s curiosity got the better of him and he started watching Ben more closely. It wasn’t like how it was with any stormtrooper or with Poe. There was no immediate connection, no sense of coming friendship. But there was something that told Finn that Ben was important, in his way, and now he was curious to see how important he might be.

“Your dad was telling us you think the plans are Sith,” Finn started to say and Ben snorted.

“Never could keep quiet, could he?” Ben tapped the counter between them. “Get me a drill.”

Finn was quick to hand it over so he could go back to his questions. “He told us about the Jedi too.”

“What about them? That they’re almost extinct? That’s not news because that happened about ten years ago.”

“Except for your uncle?”

“He’s a pretty old relic by now,” Ben said with a flippancy that Finn didn’t believe. “But yeah, he was a legend once.”

“Still is. Luke Skywalker is whispered about even in the First Order!” Finn said in a rush. “I mean, and he’s your uncle!”

“Trust me,” Ben said, “famous relatives aren’t an easy burden to bear.”

They were quiet again as Ben worked but Finn noticed how easily he did it all. He wasn’t even looking sometimes when he gestured for tools. Sometimes, just sometimes, the tools seemed to lift up to Finn’s hand to be handed over on their own. It was strange and he felt his fingertips tingle whenever he took the tools but he dismissed it as maybe just from the force of gravity.

“So,” Finn began again.

Ben groaned. “More questions? What now?”

“You’re Force sensitive?” Finn asked. “I mean, does that even exist?”

Ben scoffed at the question. “Try again.” He squinted at the open panel. “Three quarters wrench.”

Finn quickly handed it over. “Seriously, does the Force really exist?”

“Of course it does. You know about my uncle.”

“Then how do you, you know, do it?”

“Do it?” Ben looked at him. “What do you mean?” He swung upside down in the unit panel and squirmed through the wall to find what he was looking for. 

“Solo said you were—” Finn’s voice dropped conspiratorially. “Force trained. Like a Jedi. Were those people even real?”

“Solo?” Ben mouthed to himself before looking down at the younger man. “Something like that. I never completed my training.”

“Why not? Was it hard or something?” Finn sounded confused. “How do you know if you have the Force?”

All of these questions were giving Ben a headache. “It’s a feeling. An instinct. You sense things. Sometimes, as a kid, you might move things. Predict things. It’s all...more than I can explain.”

“Anyone can have it?”

“Anyone,” he agreed.

“Even…” Finn began but the Falcon shuddered suddenly. Ben looked up and sighed.

“We’re here.”

“Here?” Finn looked up at him. “Where’s here?”

Ben shrugged and for the first time since Finn had started speaking to him he cracked a slight smile. “Anywhere but where the First Order is. That’s what you wanted, right?”


	7. Takodana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old friends and an inheritance that Ben Solo doesn't want

Maz Kanata had seen many things in her long life but nothing gave her greater pleasure than noticing the exact moment when a strapping young man and the older man at his side entered her tavern. Not because she had particularly missed Han Solo but she was incredibly fond of the younger Ben Solo and his mother who Maz still considered a Princess, and where Han was she knew that Leia Organa would have interests and wouldn’t be too far behind. Maz was eager to see what news of the Resistance might have missed her ever wily ears. 

She tapped her goggles thoughtfully and peered closer across the distance. Their companions, a young dark man in a pair of hand-me downs from Han who stared around her tavern with open worry, the ever charming Poe Dameron, and an orange and white droid, flanked them. Poe was limping badly, clutching at his side, and Maz adjusted her goggles again to normal settings.

“Han Solo!” she called. The boisterous tavern went silent immediately as her powerful voice pierced the air and in response Han raised his hands in the air.

“Maz!” he replied with his usual cocky grin. “Good to see you!”

She scuttled off of her seat at the Sabbac table very quickly and crossed the room so fast that no one could flinch away. “I would say the same, but as I remember it, your last smuggling run cost me several thousand credits.”

The tavern fell back into its usual patterns of yelling and growling about cheats and thieves, about credits owed and drinks needed, which left them in virtual isolation it seemed. Maz wouldn’t count on them not being noticed though. She knew the First Order and its roots in the Imperial machinations too well.

“It’s not like I meant for it to happen,” Han said as she approached him and took his hand in hers. She pumped it once and felt how clammy his skin was. She gave him a long, thoughtful look.

“You never do.” Maz looked him up and down skeptically before turning to the men with him. “Who are your friends?”

“This is Poe Dameron and—” he looked at the young dark skinned man before shrugging, “well, he says he’s Finn.”

Maz looked at the second man closely. “I see,” she said very softly.

Finn fidgeted under her steady stare and dropped his own eyes to his feet.

Then Maz’s goggles shimmered as she looked up at the younger dark haired man at Han’s side. “Ben Solo,” she said, holding out her hand for him to take next. “Still running with this old space dog, I see.” 

“Keeping him in line,” Ben said, taking her hand in his gently. “Chewie sends his best.”

“I do like that Wookie,” she said with a secretive grin. “Like me, he’s seen so much. Where is he?”

“Repairing a few scrapes we got on the Falcon. Maz, we need your help,” Han said. She fixed her goggled eyes on him and frowned.

“Help? With what?”

“With me, probably.” Poe put his hand out. “Dameron, Poe. Pleasure.”

His charming smile didn’t seem to phase her. “You are the troublemaker Leia has employed to win her war for her.”

Poe was a little nonplussed by her lack of response to his smile. “Something like that. I need to get some intel to her. Han here said you were the best.”

“I am the best.” She raised a set of long fingers. “Come on. I need a drink if I am dealing with the Solo family.”

* * *

Seated in the corner, the long skeletal droid, a model XID Imperial Coded reconnaissance model, unwound itself from where it was wrapped about a ceiling strut in the old castle. It was an aged model, circa the Empire at the height of its power, so that its body was rusted and its technology was so old that it could remember its orders to serve the Emperor. It had been sent to Takodana years before to watch some creature but a frying of its circuits had robbed the droid of the name and image of that creature

Now, its wide eyes fixed on the group of men that had just come in and it craned its head low, watching them. It processed data quickly but at first nothing came up on its old records. Then it noticed the dirty little droid tagging along with them faithfully. It was beeping at its master impatiently and the droid atop the rafter unravelled itself a little so it could come closer. 

Rebels. It knew Rebels by body language alone and these ones were Rebels.

The older man turned his head a little and the Imperial Droid’s records whizzed with information as it read the diagnostics of the human man and his features. Its records blared to life and it beeped softly to itself.  _ Han Solo _ . The others were inconsequential. Han Solo was infamous even in these reaches.

It relayed the message immediately to the last known source it had on its records. A Star Destroyer that was now part of the First Order. The information was received with little more than a blip and the Imperial Droid began to slither lower down the rafters, one after the other, to follow its other prerogative. The one it had been designed to execute quickly. Its jaw distended and a long, pointed needle protruded as its makeshift teeth came closer to the top of Han Solo’s head. The droid reared back, coiled its long body, then flew through the air to thrust the needle into him.

A hand lashed out and caught it by the jaw, wrenching it down with a savage twist. The younger man had caught the droid and the droid was so startled it only wriggled a little as it turned its head toward him. Its eyes recorded the lightning fast movements of his hand, recorded his face, and relayed the information immediately to its source. 

_ ID: Ben Solo,  _ was the last transmission the droid received. 

The younger man sneered at it, then crunched the head with a squeeze of his hands and a hefty dose of the Force. Poe and Finn stared at him in surprise while Han’s expression mirrored Maz’s annoyed one.

“Letting Imperial droids roost here, Maz?” Han asked.

She shrugged and led them to a private table in the back. “I thought I had them cleaned out some time ago but I was wrong it seems. Good thing Ben here is surprisingly accurate in his predictions.” She gave Ben a hollow grin. “Almost as if he is sensing things.”

Ben said nothing.

“The Force?” Finn asked eagerly.

Han sighed. “Forgive the kid, Maz. He’s not up on everything.”

Maz ignored Han’s well known flippancy about the Force. “Something like that,” she said to Finn not unkindly. She gestured about. “So, what would you all need from me? I am just an old woman enjoying her retirement.”

The lie of that made Ben snort and Han nudged him in the side before leaning across the table on his elbows. “I need to get Poe here to the Resistance and this kid, he…”

Maz had turned the full strength of her wise stare onto Finn now. “Is running from something.”

Han and Ben looked at one another, then at Finn to see that the younger man was fidgeting again. “I’m not running from anything,” he muttered. “I was helping.”

“He did help us. Broke me out of the detention centre on a heavily armed Star Destroyer. He’ll probably want to join up with the Resistance,” Poe said with easy confidence.

“I just need passage to the Outer Rims. Some place where I won’t be recognized. Some place far away from the First Order,” Finn said, not looking at Poe.

That was news to Poe who gave him a look of sheer surprise. Maz frowned and looked at Han who shrugged. Then she looked at Finn and her frown deepened, pulling at her wizened features. She reached up and adjusted her goggles so that her eyes seemed luminous and large, then stood up and began to crawl across the table toward Finn. Ben shot Han a curious look but his father waved a hand to keep him still. The defected stormtrooper was squirming in his seat.

“You get to my age, my boy,” Maz said as she came nose to nose with Finn, “and you start to see the same eyes in different people.”

Her eyes peered deep into his.

“You’ll find no answers if you run away from the very thing you are frightened of. Because the truth will follow you, no matter where you go,” she said, her voice softer now. Finn flinched and Poe frowned, putting his hand comfortingly on BB8’s head. 

“I have seen what the First Order does to people, to traitors,” Finn said back, his voice strong but still wavering a little. “And we all need to get as far away from them as possible.”

It was a weak excuse but Maz sniffed and shrugged. “So be it. Before we do business, Han, your friend here will find safe passage with those two spice runners in the back left corner. They’ll take you to the Outer Reaches where you can disappear.”

Finn nodded. “Thank you.”

“Finn!” Poe said and he grabbed Finn by the arm when he stood up. “You can do so much good if you stay. Think of the Resistance!”

“That’s your home, Poe. Not mine. I’m gonna make mine somewhere far away, free from the First Order,” Finn snapped, pulling his arm free.

Poe stared at him. “Eventually there will be no such place.”

The blunt statement made Finn look away and take a deep breath. Then he nodded. “Well, until then? I’m getting away from them.”

Poe started to rise but Han put his hand out. “Let him go, Poe.”

Ben rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Thought I left the romance and dramatics behind when I left the Core planets.”

As Finn left him behind, Poe glared at Ben but sat back down across from the Solos as Maz returned to her own seat. “The First Order will be here soon,” she said solemnly. Her eyes darted to Ben. “You know this.”

He nodded.

“We need to get Poe to Leia. Can you get a ship for him?” Han asked.

Maz sat back in her seat and stared at him as steadily as she had Finn. “No.”

“No?” Poe and Han asked at the same time with matching incredulity. 

“This is a fight you cannot avoid. Either of you. It needs to be faced and fought. There are more enemies than you know. Deeper histories than just the Republic and the discards of the Empire.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked.

“It is a feeling, and I’m sure you’ve had it as well.” Maz tapped the table with a long finger. “Neither of you can run any longer. Any more than that young man can. You need to face it. All of it.” Her eyes snapped to Ben. “Even what you have hidden.”

Han blinked and looked at Ben. “What is she talking about?”

Ben glared at her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Maz.”

“No? Perhaps not.” She reclined in her seat a little. “But I think you know what I mean, Ben Solo. You’ve been hiding so long.” 

Poe glanced between them. “So this went from being about me to being about him?”

Maz flicked her eyes to him. “Not everything is about you.”

“Beg to differ. I’m the one with a target on my back.”

Maz lifted a hand to silence him and then reached up to adjust her goggles again to look large-eyed at Ben. Unlike Finn, he held her gaze steadily, his icy expression never changing.

“The same eyes,” she whispered to herself. “The mirror of a deep darkness within.”

“Maz? You’re losing us,” Han said finally. “What’s going on?”

She frowned but her attention was solely on Ben. “You’ve been running a long time, young Solo,” Maz said, adjusting her goggles. “Are you ever not going to run?”

“Running’s pretty easy,” Han commented.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Han,” Maz snapped and her wizened eyes remained on Ben. “You dream still, don’t you? Of voices and darkness.”

Ben held her stare without commenting.

She smiled then. “Eventually, you’re going to have to stop running from the darkness.”

“And let it do to me what it did to my grandfather?” Ben whispered.

“Not all darkness is to be feared, Solo,” Maz said and she leaned forward, tapping the table between them to emphasize her point. “You might find something worth saving within the darkness.” 

“There is nothing worthwhile hiding in the darkness,” Ben snapped and he stood up from his chair. Maz looked up at him.

“Your uncle thought there was, once. And he was right.” Her head tilted on the side. “Maybe you are more alike the Skywalkers than you want to be.”

“The Skywalker name is cursed,” Ben said and he leaned close to her. “Stop trying to mess with my head, Maz. It’s bad enough in there already without you trying.”

She stared up at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know why you’ve been seeing  _ her?” _

Ben jerked upright and glanced at his father who looked first at Maz, then up at him curiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ben shook his head. “I’m going to grab a drink from the bar.”

He was gone before anyone could stop him and Han sighed. “Maz, you really know how to clear a room,” he joked and Poe muttered an agreement.

She glared at him. “Your son is deeply troubled and you are making jokes.”

“Kid’s always been troubled,” he said to Maz as if to apologize for it. “But I thought he was getting better.”

“Being with you, hiding with you, has kept him from the dark. But no longer. Something is coming, Han, and for all of your protection, he isn’t ready.”

“What is coming?” Poe asked.

“I will contact the Resistance,” Maz said, ignoring his question. “But you will be seeing your wife one way or another, Han. It would likely be for the best if this was a reunion you both wanted.”

* * *

Ben stood at the bar and seethed. His hand still ached from crushing the delicate head of that assassin droid and his head hurt from Maz’s riddles. Running a hand through his hair, he downed his drink and tapped the bar. The bartender, a rough and tumble human, stared at him. “My dad’ll pay,” he said.

The bartender nodded and Ben turned away from the bar. He saw Finn in the corner, in deep discussion with the two spice runners. He almost debated on telling Finn his choice was causing Poe some actual pain but he knew that’d be interfering and Ben didn’t do that. Usually. He headed for the doorway leading out, intent on going back to Chewie so he could send the Wookie in to flirt with Maz while he fixed the ship.

But it was the soft crying that stopped him. It was a child’s cry. 

Ben recognized the sound from Jakku and he froze in the doorway. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “No,” he whispered and he started to move through the door. But the crying intensified, the sound desperate, and he was drawn to it in a way he couldn’t have explained to anyone.

Step by heavy step, he moved down the stairwell to Maz’s basement. It was a hoarder’s dream, knick knacks and antiques everywhere. Ben looked about, still hearing the crying though it was faint now. It changed slowly, rolling about in the air in odd rolls, and he followed the sound down the long tunnel to an open door. 

There was a small girl in the room he found beyond the door, curled up in a ball. Only this time she was being cradled by a kneeling figure in black. It was almost as if she was being protected. Ben stepped forward into the room. “Who are you?” he asked the figure in black.

With a hiss, her head lifted and there was a faint rushing sound as her yellow-tinged eyes met his. The mask that covered her lower jaw hissed again and the little girl in her arms cried out as the figure in black folded them both up. Ben stayed where he was and watched as the two figures evaporated like black smoke into the shadows beyond them. 

Where they had crouched was a small brown wooden chest. Ben heard the crying still echoing in the room, the faint echoing hiss, but then something deeper began. This time it was a deeper breath, mechanical and horrible, that burred through the air and clung to Ben’s mind.

He’d heard this in holos before. Holos his mother had tried to protect him from.

As he knelt before the box, the sound deepened and clung to the very air around him. When he opened the chest and stared at the contents kept within it, his vision began to swirl about him. Lights danced across his eyes, kept him riveted as he stared at the shining silver cylinder. 

The lightsaber within shone at him.

_ “There is a great disturbance in the Force,”  _ an oily yet crackling voice said around him

__ Ben took hold of the saber and this time visions sliced through the air, voices and images so clear his brain could not keep up with all that he saw. Of men and women fighting, of droids being cut down, young children cut down before a hooded figure. Ben’s hand shook as he kept it about the saber.

_ “Stopped they must be. On this all depends. Only a fully trained Jedi Knight with the Force as his ally will conquer Vader and his Emperor.” _

_ “I'm not the Jedi I should be. I want more.” _

_ “Twice the pride, double the fall.” _

_ “If only you knew the power of the dark side.” _

_ “One day, I will become the greatest Jedi ever. I will even learn how to stop people from dying.” _

_ “We lost something…” _

_ “Only a Sith deals in absolutes.” _

He recoiled, still clutching the lightsaber, and it hissed as he turned it on by mistake. Soft blue light flooded the dark shadows about him and he twisted on his heel when he heard a soft gasping cry. The visions about him twisted and suddenly he saw that little girl again, this time alone and staring up at him. Her gentle eyes were tear-filled and she held out her hand to him.

“Help me,” she whispered. “Save me.”

“Who are you?” Ben whispered. “How can I help you?”

She looked behind herself and suddenly the air was filled with the smell of crackling ozone, lit up by a streak of lightning. Her frightened face looked back up at him and she shook her head sadly, her eyes suddenly ancient with pain and grief. “You’re too late. No one can help me,” she whispered and she stepped back.

“No, wait!” Ben cried, reaching out but she was soon absorbed by shadow. Before he could draw his hand back, a red lightsaber snarled to life and sliced out at him, stabbing toward his heart. He threw himself back to avoid it and landed hard on the floor outside the room with a thump.

Heaving for breath, he flicked the blue lightsaber off again and rolled to his side, spitting up a mouthful of blood. He wiped at his lips, shocked by the taste of copper in his mouth, and slowly pushed up onto all fours. Ben gulped for air and shook his head to try to clear of those horrible visions he had seen. 

“Ben.”

Maz’s voice was gentle and he looked up to see her coming toward him through the corridor of the basement.

“I see you found it.” She gestured at the lightsaber in his hand. “Your inheritance.” 

He thrust it out between them. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It calls to you, the lightsaber of your grandfather.” She shook her head. “The lightsaber that has seen the change in the strongest of Jedi. Felt the pull of the Light and the Dark. This lightsaber calls to you because, like you, it is of the Light and the Dark in a way only your family can understand.” Maz put her frail hand atop his and squeezed gently. “That Light, that Dark...that is your inheritance, Ben Solo. And if you do not accept that you are a part of the Force in that way, then we may lose everything to a darkness we have known before.” 

Ben was saved from answering by the sound of amazed shouting upstairs. Maz exchanged a long look with him and shook her head when he thrust the lightsaber into her hand and stood up. “If you don’t make the choice, Ben, then it may be made for you,” she said with a sad note to her voice even as she clutched the lightsaber close.

Ben shook his head. “I’ll never let it get that far.”

They left the basement together and followed the crowd outside to see the sky was lit up. For the night sky, it was as if ten new stars had been created with one larger star in the middle. There was a massive circle of light in the distance, moving fast across the space. The light parted into ten streams of flame and struck the Hosnian System with stunning accuracy. It had to be only several thousand miles of way from the planets but as Ben watched, the planets burst into glowing balls of flame.

“What…” Ben looked over to see his father was ashen and Poe was shaking his head.

Then his father looked up North and his posture changed. It became combative. He caught Ben’s eye and nodded, forcing him to turn to see three massive ships were landing near the ruins of Maz’s castle. Glowing lights and the hot updraft blasted the crowd outside the castle. 

“Run!” someone screamed in Huttese.

Then everything dissolved into chaos.


	8. Crossed Paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takodana is under attack and Finn shows who he really is. Ben finally meets the dark figure of his visions and the disarming effect is mutual.

The First Order landed upon Takodana only after they had completely obliterated forty square miles of forest first. It was their standard procedure in order to secure the grounds: burn it to the ground, destroy all possible avenues of cover, and conquer. Finn had seen it coming the moment the Star Destroyer had appeared just over the space above Takodana and he’d run back away from the spice-runner ship he’d been about to board. Some may have called him a coward, running from a fight, and a fool for running back to one but he knew he had to warn Poe and the Solos about the incoming fleet. 

He couldn’t leave things like that, even though he barely knew any of them.

Finn wasn’t the stormtrooper the First Order had hoped for.

He ran through the woods back towards the ruined castle as overhead TIE fighters screamed and hovered too close to the tree tops that remained. In the distance he could see shuttles landing and releasing tens of troops out onto the ground. Someone had sent a smaller battalion down and his heart dropped as he realized they had likely come for Poe. It only made sense to his training for them to try to capture a Resistance fighter with vital information. Finn didn’t even try to guess how they had tracked them. 

Mid-sprint, he paused by a tree and watched as many of the people he had just seen an hour before poured out of Maz’s tavern only to be gunned down point blank by the waiting troopers. Wave after wave collapsed on the steps of the castle and few managed to scream in pain before they were silenced immediately by another round of blasters being set off.

“No!” Finn screamed as a dark haired human man fell. He couldn’t tell if it was Poe or Ben but it didn’t matter to him. He started off into the clearing but nearby two troopers overheard his scream and opened fire. He ducked down behind the tree and it exploded over his head. Trembling, he suddenly wished he had kept some blaster or weapon. He waited for the ringing in his ears to stop and he stayed crouched and quiet, hoping to be forgotten. 

But when he looked up, a stormtrooper was standing over him. “You traitor!” the trooper growled and he raised his blaster. Finn covered his head again and waited for the blow.

A loud zip sound slashed through the air and the trooper made a startled, chortling noise before he collapsed with a hole through his chestplate. Finn stared in surprise as he stood just before the trooper fell on top of him and he looked up to see that he had, in fact, been noticed. From within the remains of the ruins that hadn’t been destroyed, Maz came up at a run, her diminutive form surprisingly quick over the difficult terrain. “There you are!” she said. “You survived!”

She said it with a bit of surprise and it was so insulting but Finn didn’t bother to take it.

“Where are the others?” He grabbed her arm. “Is Poe…”

She shrugged his hand off. “They’ve survived the first onslaught. Han got them out, the old space pirate is good at that. They need to get to the Falcon but there’s a battalion between them and that pile of Force blessed junk,” Maz explained as she crouched beside him. “They need your help.”

“They don’t…I don’t even have a weapon!” Finn protested.

Maz reached down to her belt and unclipped a cylinder of silver. She pressed it into his hand. “Now you do. Get this to Ben Solo. He’s going to need it soon.”

“What? It’s a bomb?” Finn asked as he turned it in his hand. His finger tripped a button and a shaft of blue light filled the space between them. He stared at it in awe then glanced to see Maz watching him with an odd expression on his face. 

“This is a weapon from another time. Use it.”

“I don’t know how to fight with this! Give me a blaster!” Finn said, his voice shaking a little. 

Maz snorted. “When the time comes, you’ll know how to use it, Finn. Trust me. Trust the Force.”

“Trust the Force,” he repeated before shaking his head. “Knew I was gonna die sometime soon.”

She sighed and waved him on. “I’ll try to hold them off from here but I’ll be right behind you.”

He nodded and hefted the lightsaber up. “Wish me luck.”

“You’re going to need it!” she answered even as he sprinted knee-deep into battle with only a lightsaber to protect him.

* * *

In the span of his time spent running smuggling lines and Resistance battles, Han had seen worse firefights. He wasn’t surprised by much these days. So when the First Order stormtroopers landed he was well prepared. With Ben at his back, they made their slow, careful way across the ruined clearing. The Falcon was a fair way off, safely parked to the south within a stand of trees and rocks, and already Chewie was growling over the comm link that he was getting prepared for takeoff. Ben and Poe took opposite sides of Han to help protect each other and the firefight wasn’t the worst either had seen. The calm the three men shared was almost odd compared to the chaos around them.

“They’re unusually restrained,” Poe called across to Ben and Han from where he cowered behind a ruin. “Like someone told them not to kill us.”

Ben didn’t answer but Han piped up with, “Only a Resistance fighter would question that. Take it as a good sign, Dameron.”

Ben clicked his blaster a few times and looked up at the sky. He was so distracted that when a trooper went to blow a hole in his side from across the clearing, Han shot them in the chest and sent them flying backward. Satisfied they were momentarily safe, he was quick to grab Ben by the shirt front and haul him close. “Pay attention! I won’t always be here to watch your back, kid!” he snapped. “What in hell are you looking at?”

Ben jerked his chin up at the sky and Han followed his gaze to where a black and red shuttle was slowly descending in the middle of the others that had let the battalion down not twenty minutes before. It was escorted by three TIE fighters, all decorated with Snoke’s ensignia, and its engines made a loud roaring noise as it finally landed in the middle of the firefight. Then, whisper quiet, it released steam into the air and settled its landing gear quietly into the dirt.

“Must be one of Snoke’s generals,” Ben said and he shrugged. “We need to get out of here.”

“Not without getting through all those stormtroopers we’re not!” Poe said before taking aim and sending three troopers scurrying for cover with a round of blasts. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?” Han looked around then grinned.

“Why did you have to say that?” Ben hissed at Poe who shrugged. 

“I thought he might have had a plan,” he commented.

Ben sighed. “You seriously don’t know my dad.”

Han went off, shooting blindly over his shoulder, as he sprinted awkwardly for the cover of another ruin. Once decently hidden, he turned and whistled at Ben, pointing left and right before swirling his hand in a half circle. Ben nodded and grabbed hold of Poe by the upper arm. 

“You go left, I go right. Zig zag it. I’ll cover you and Dad’ll cover me.”

“You guys don’t have a plan, do you?” Poe challenged and Ben shrugged.

“Never really do. Just stay alive.”

They moved in tandem, Ben right, Poe left, into the clearing, firing and sending troopers off for cover. Ben fired wildly but to Poe’s surprise most of his blasts caught troopers anyway. His own seemed to not hit as many as Ben’s but he wondered, in a vague way, if Ben was using the Force the way he was rumoured to be able to. Poe wished he was right.

Then they both heard the loud whirring of the shuttle and its gunners turned fire on them. Ben dove for cover and covered his head while Poe joined Han at a ruined overhang. The gunners fired round after round in Ben’s direction, sending up clouds of dirt and smoke that made the entire clearing go black with smog. The gunners only hesitated at some unspoken order and they heard them clicking rapidly.

Ben lifted his head and pushed his dark hair out of his eyes, warily looking across the clearing as the shuttle’s ramp lowered. A lone figure in black came down by herself, paused, then cocked their head at the carnage around her. Ben’s heart began to pound as horrible memory flooded him, as echoes of a crying child began to resonate in his ears. He turned toward Han and held his palm down toward the earth. His father shook his head and Ben insistently swept his hand down again.

His father didn’t like it one bit, that much Ben could tell, but he grabbed Poe by the scruff of the neck and hauled him towards the open forest just as Ben stood up and fired a blaster shot at the shuttle, not caring if he hit anything. The figure turned toward Han and Poe as the bolt careened toward her but lifted a hand and the bolt froze mid-air. Ben stepped back as her head turned toward him next, clearly trying to decide what to do. 

“Dad, go!” Ben called.

“Dad?” A hissing voice echoed, a feminine version of the voice in Ben’s nightmares. 

“Ben, I’m not gonna leave you here,” Han answered.

“Go!” Ben shouted and he took off right towards the ruins for cover, trying to think of a plan. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Han and Poe sprinting for the forest path that led to the Falcon. The figure shrugged and reached into their robes for a long saber hilt, flicking their wrist out casually and send it into one long shaft. Ben turned and shot at an approaching trooper who took the brunt of the blow to the chest, and as he ran he saw the lightsaber ignite. An almost serene red glow transfixed him as the saberstaff twirled a little.

“You,” she called across the distance. “You can’t run from me.”

“Don’t have to run long,” Ben muttered as he edged towards the opposite side of the clearing. He could get a decent headstart on her.

His plan was interrupted by a loud bang and hiss. Both he and the woman in black turned to look at where Finn was in an odd swordfight with a stormtrooper armed with a glowing silver baton, clearly fighting for his life. Reluctantly, Ben looked back to see the woman was transfixed.

“FN-2187,” she said softly but even across the distance Ben could hear her. She turned away from him and the bolt unfroze, twisting in the air and slicing through a nearby stormtrooper carelessly.

It miffed him a little that he was so easily forgotten but Ben wasn’t about to guess about it or test his luck. He watched as Finn tried desperately to defend himself from the stormtrooper and then glanced at the forest path that led towards where his father had gone. He could leave this all behind, escape and get to the Resistance with them.

He looked at the back of the woman as she quietly stalked Finn and he sighed.

“This was supposed to be easy,” he muttered. “But no. It can’t be easy.”

He reached for his commlink and told Chewie his plan, which was met with obvious disdain, and then he quickly began to follow the woman across the clearing.

Unlike his father, Ben hoped to have a plan before it was too late.

* * *

Finn fought for his life. He tried to mimic all those holovids he’d watched as a child, of famed fighters or historical figures who had used metal swords, but he was only trained on blasters. He parried and thrust, but mostly parried, falling into a defensive position as the stormtrooper came closer and closer to severing his head from his body. The lightsaber hummed in his hands and he raised it quickly over his head, blocking a coming blow for his skull. The stormtrooper slammed his elbow into his chest and Finn went to his knees, gasping for his breath. 

The stormtrooper kept muttering over and over again about traitors, in a hypnotic low voice that almost sounded…forced. The monotone of his voice was a symbol of his training and Finn flinched with every muttered  _ ‘traitor’ _ that floated through the air. He leapt to his feet once to dodge a swipe at his stomach and twisted around, slamming the hilt of the lightsaber down. He saw too late the second smaller blade coming for his gut and Finn braced himself for impact.

Then something else guided his hand and the lightsaber seemed to swing on its own, neatly slicing the hand off of the stormtrooper. He howled in pain and went to his knees as he clutched his hand. For one brief moment, something dark snared at Finn’s mind. It dared him, winding seductively about his thoughts as it whispered to him to cut off the stormtrooper’s head next. He shook his head. No, he was better than that. Instead, he slammed the hilt of the blade into the back of the trooper’s head and sent him unconscious to the clearing floor.

Something red glinted behind him, in the corner of his vision, and Finn turned just in time to block a lightsaber coming for his head. It was a quarterstaff, he realized in shock, a dual version of the blade he held, and yet it was held lightly by the woman who wielded it. Almost as if she didn’t really care if he blocked it or not.

The woman in black tilted her head at him. “FN-2187,” she said in that modulated voice that haunted him. She lifted her hand a little and the pressure of their blades locking increased. “I thought that was you. You’re not hard to find.”

Finn looked behind him nervously. “Not sure how you did it.”

She chuckled and turned her hand hard to the left, sending him off neatly. “You stand out. I should have brought you to the Supreme Leader himself when I started to see you for what you really are.” As she began to circle him, she twisted her wrist and her saberstaff rotated slowly. “I still can. If you surrender.”

“Surrender?” Finn goggled at her.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” she said. “If you come back, maybe you would be forgiven.”

Finn’s fingers tightened on the hilt of the saber. “I don’t need to be forgiven. I found my place. Away from the First Order.”

She walked a few paces around him. “Have you? You would always be the traitor, even to them.”

Finn’s hold became white-knuckled. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? Then why don’t you know where their base is? Do you think they’d ever trust a  _ traitor _ like you?” she asked.

It was a lucky guess and Finn stared at her in surprise. It was a mistake to take his attention off of her. He realized too late as her other hand lifted that she had distracted him. The steel frame of her saber caught him in the jaw and Finn started to collapse down at the shock of pain that crunched through his head. He never met the ground. She snatched him mid-air with the Force and sent him crashing into a tree nearby. As he flew, she twirled her blades and caught him along his left side, grazing his rib cage and though the wound cauterized immediately, it left his left side split open. Steam rose from the wound as he lay helpless in the undergrowth.

Darth Ceria sighed. It really was too easy but Snoke would be pleased at this new discovery. Within his own ranks of stormtroopers at that.

“Bring him,” she told a waiting set of stormtroopers who lingered near the trees waiting for her orders.

They scuttled forward to do her bidding but came to an abrupt halt as two blaster bolts caught them both in the chest. As they collapsed, Darth Ceria raised a brow and sighed. 

Maybe it had been too easy.

“Enough!” a powerful voice ricocheted through the ruined clearing and she turned slowly to face the petite creature who had dared command her to stop. Maz Kanata, she vaguely remembered from the report. An old creature the Empire had suspected once of being a Force sensitive. Interesting. As Darth Ceria read her Force signature, she could see all the potential the old creature had. It was...troubling.

Her Grandfather had had more enemies who were more powerful than he had realized.

“You think to tell me to stop?” Darth Ceria asked. “How…”Her nose wrinkled above her mask. “Cute.”

“Leave him be,” Maz warned. She raised her blaster between them. “He is destined for more than this.”

“More than this? There is no  _ this _ .” Darth Ceria swept her robes about her heels and adjusted her hood more tightly about her face to hide her unsettled expression from the smaller creature who kept coming closer and closer as if she had no worry of being killed. Keep coming, Maz, Darth Ceria thought, and I’ll chop your old head from your body.

“Why are you doing this?” Maz asked unexpectedly.

“This? Our Supreme Leader will love the opportunity to take more Force sensitives beneath his wing,” Darth Ceria said, unable to keep the boredom from her voice, “and my men will find that Dameron before he can continue being a nuisance.”

Maz looked up at the sky. “It was your people who murdered billions just now. I felt all that life snuffed out. Why?”

Darth Ceria followed her gaze and shrugged. “They all had to die sometime. We just sped up the process.”

“All this and for what?” Maz circled her, blaster shaking a little in her hand. “Domination?”

“Peace. Order. The very things the Republic and the Jedi failed to do,” Darth Ceria answered, well versed in the political motivations of the First Order, of her Grandfather’s plan. “We will have order.”

“This isn’t order,” Maz corrected. “This is evil and you know it.”

“Who told you that?” she asked with clear curiosity. “Some Jedi? Luke Skywalker perhaps?” Darth Ceria shook her head. “The Light is a lie and you should remember that.”

“The belief in the Jedi is the only thing that this galaxy needs to bring your kind down,” Maz said as Darth Ceria walked toward her a little, lifting a hand. It was a surprise to the human when her Force powers were blocked, by Maz she supposed though the tiny creature was stronger than she thought she might be. She couldn’t choke those traitorous words in her throat the way Darth Ceria had hoped she could.

“Luke Skywalker will not be a threat after I hunt him down,” she said with a sneer. They were only feet apart now, Maz still staring up at her bravely, and it made her feel agitated that such a creature wasn’t intimidated by her.

“There is another.”

“Another?” Darth Ceria looked closely at Maz as she shifted before her so that they circled one another. “You think that’ll save you. Promises of power? Some saviour?”

“No. I know it wouldn’t.” Maz turned her face up to the young woman. “You weren’t always meant for the Dark. Not in this time. Not you... Rey.”

Darth Ceria flinched backward at that single name. “How do you know that name?”

“It is the name of a Jedi. A Jedi you will become.”

Darth Ceria bared her teeth and hissed. “You’re mistaken, old woman. I should kill you just to put you out of your misery for saying that.”

True to her word, she reached down and her lightsaber ignited once more. The twin blades lit up side by side and Darth Ceria held it out so that it hovered close to Maz’s leathery brown skin. Maz’s goggles steamed up at the heat of the blades. 

“Because you are nothing more than a miserable pebble in my shoe,” Darth Ceria said. “Pray to your Jedi. Perhaps they’ll ease your suffering.” She leaned in closer. “Because I will be certain you suffer.”

She raised her hand to strike and Maz, astonishingly, only stood before her while refusing to back down. The Sith growled and brought her hand up higher. The blades would sever Maz’s smug little smile and that would be the last of it.

A ringing sound filled the air and stinging pain lashed through the back of her hand, so shocking that at first she didn’t react. Then a horrible pain laced up her arm and Darth Ceria cried out in agony, bringing her hand down and cradling it as the lightsaber fell to the forest floor. She drew her hand close to her chest and stared at the laser burn that now marred the once pale skin. Now it was mottled red and there was a clean strike through, so clean that she could see through to the other side.

Startled, wounded, furious, she looked up across the valley floor.

The young man who stood before her not thirty feet away was older than her, dark haired and dark eyed. The one she had seen before. A smuggler, she supposed as she tried to push past the pain to focus on his long, quiet face. He was dressed like a smuggler in a worn black leather coat and black trousers, and was armed only with a set of blasters strapped to his legs. One was still held up between them, clearly charged and ready to fire again.

“Maz?” he called out in a deep voice. “You okay?”

“About time you showed up,” Maz said. She started to slowly ease away from the Sith but wasn’t noticed by Darth Ceria. Not when he was standing there, so noble and so infuriating.

“You’re not Resistance,” Darth Ceria said, eyes on the man. “You’re….”

“And you’re not just First Order,” he said with an easy smile. Then it faded as he took in her half-mask, her cloak and the red lit lightsaber still crackling on the ground and burning holes in the vegetation. “Sith. Should have guessed.” He whistled. “Well, sweetheart, you’re not what I expected.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” she groaned as she shook her injured hand. Pain was good. It was a teacher and a friend. It would keep her safe.

Even though looking at this man was…unsettling.

Something niggled at her. Like the wound on her hand. She knew him. He was very tall and broad, unconventionally handsome in a way that she hated to notice, and yet there was something so markedly different about him that she couldn’t put her finger on it. She  _ knew _ him.

Then she read him in the way her Grandfather had taught her and every nerve in her body pulsed with fury. “You’re a Skywalker,” she hissed through her modulator.

He shrugged. “Solo, actually.”

“Solo?” She fumbled with the word, tasted it on her tongue. “Oh yes, we heard about your people. Rebel scum.”

“That’s not very nice,” the smuggler said. “I don’t even know your name to insult you back.”

“Ben!” Maz called as she reached the fallen traitor. 

“Maz! Get Finn!” Ben answered though he didn’t take his eyes from Darth Ceria. She bent over and picked up her lightsaber in her left hand, gingerly carrying it and igniting one end. His eyebrows rose a little as he backed off. Darth Ceria pointed it between them. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” she warned.

“My dad always taught me to never run from a fair fight,” he agreed before shrugging. “This? Not really fair.”

And he took off running. 

Darth Ceria stood for a moment, feeling stupid, as she watched him run. He was fast, too fast for someone so tall, and he was nimble. But that wasn’t what she noticed. He radiated with power, something dark and hidden that wasn’t quite her own darkness. It wasn’t anything she recognized. This was something...else...

She was absolutely fascinated.

* * *

He ran.

It was all he could do. He hadn’t trained against lightsabers in almost ten years, let alone against a grown woman who knew how to use them. Ever since Luke had closed his temple after the massacre, Ben had been blaster training with his father and sweet talking his way out of trouble ever since. Blasters he was good at. Sweet talking a dual-blade-wielding-likely-homicidal Sith? Not so much.

He tapped his comm link and heard the telltale blip of the Falcon responding. Best thing he’d done thanks to his ever careful mother was to install a link to the Falcon. It normally let him bail his father out of trouble but this time he’d need it.

“ _ Dad, I’m gonna need you.” _

_ “On my way, kid. Just keep running.” _

He was rounding a tree when the Force warned him to duck. He sprang left and ducked under the hot blade of a lightsaber. It grazed his side just before he threw himself further away, listening as the lightsaber hummed and shrieked as it buried itself into the tree. Ben jerked right, dodging a boot aimed for his chest. He rolled down and jumped to his feet to face the smaller woman who had followed him.

Ben heaved for breath. “You’re pretty fast.”

Her hood fell back, revealing her face and Ben froze as he stared at her. Her hair was a rich brown in three long plaits down her back and her face was actually...pretty above that horrible half-mask she wore. He stalled on that. That thought was going to lead him into trouble.

Ben had to remind himself pretty didn’t mean she wasn’t about to stick her saber in his heart.

As he stared at her, she arched a brow. “Or you’re very slow.”

“Never been accused of too slow,” Ben said as he watched her begin to circle him, her lightsaber hissing in warning. 

“No? Has it always been you’re too…quick?” she asked. Ben could have sworn she was flirting with him but he’d been wrong before. He had the graze wound in his side to prove it. Ignoring that pain, he kept his attention on her. Her modulated voice told him nothing of her emotions but he looked into her hazel eyes and could have imagined it but there it was. A flicker of amusement.

She was toying with him.

Ben Solo hadn’t believed in being attracted to your enemy but once again he was being proven wrong. Really, he could do worse than a Sith lady, he had to suppose. There was that Huttese princess who had almost won him in a game of sabacc once and that would have been much much worse. He could almost feel that Hutt's long tongue in his ear still. He did his best not to squirm in memory. Yes, a Sith was better than a Huttese princess with a licking fetish.

“You followed me all this way,” Ben said as he kept his hand close to his blaster. Her eyes flicked to the hand and then back up at him. “I must have something you want.”

“You have nothing I want beyond some knowledge. To me, you’re nothing,” she said.

“You can say what you really mean, I won’t laugh at you for wanting to get me alone.” He grinned. “My mother says I’m quite the catch.”

“I’d rather ride a Rancor.” 

The tips of his ears felt like they were going red at her implication but she seemed oblivious to it. “I can arrange that, I know the Hutts.” He side-stepped one way and she mirrored him. “So what are we doing here?”

“You,” she pointed her saber at him, “are going to tell me the location of Skywalker. Then I’ll kill you.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “That’s it? You’re just going to kill me anyway,” he commented.

“I’ll make sure to kill you quickly.” She said it as if it was the most tempting offer he’d ever have from her.

Ben took a moment to consider his options. She was...oddly beautiful. Not his type at all though. Too scrawny and too...complicated. There was too much darkness about her. 

So why couldn’t he stop thinking about what fighting with her would be like? With her, not against her. Flickers of vision crossed his mind, of back to back, facing guards in red, of moments spent staring across the flames. Ben shook his head to get rid of them.

There was an odd flush to her pale face and he wondered if she had felt the same spark.

“What’s your name?” he asked as he circled left. He kept his attention split between her and the path, manuevaring her just so.

“Ceria,” she blurted out and then she shook her head. He could have guessed that she was cursing herself for answering him “Darth Ceria.”

Ben smirked. “Your real name.”

“That is my real name.”

“No, it isn’t.” Ben reached up with a hand toward her and she flinched, throwing up her lightsaber blade between them. “You’re…”

“Don’t,” she warned even as his eyes bore into hers and he felt the vague pressure of the Force between them. Luke’s teachings came roaring back whenever he needed them and Force knew he needed them right now. A name formed in the air between them, heavy with promise, and he could taste it on his tongue before he ever spoke it.

“Rey.”

It set her off in a way that even being Force shoved wouldn’t. She came at him recklessly then, lightsaber swinging violently at his head. Ben dodged left, right, leaning out of the way just barely. He skipped around her and let her back him through the forest. So long as he kept just out of her reach he seemed to be safe. Hearing that name had made her reckless, so it seemed, and she attacked in an untrained way so that Ben couldn’t help but press the advantage.

This was what his uncle had talked about. If you let your passions rule you, you wouldn’t fight truly with the Force. 

Ben just hadn’t realized how angry he had made this Sith.

Above her mask, her eyes were blazing with fury and she twisted until her blade come close to cutting him, just out of reach. The blade was hot as it rested just above his throat. “I can kill you so easily,” she said as the blade hovered. Ready to kill.

Ben tried to do the only thing he could think of. He thought of his father and how he handled— tried to handle— his mother. “You look almost pretty when you think you’re about to kill me,” he tried.

That caused her to hiss through her mask and raise her hand, allowing him to jerk his leg up and sweep her off her feet. He dodged another strike and ran down the path, hearing her close behind him. Her lightsaber swung repeatedly at him and he felt her attempts at the Force pulling at him but he ran on anyway. He just needed to have some sort of plan.

Something snatched at his mind and he turned his head as he realized he was quickly running out of space to run. The forest was going up a steep incline and as he scrambled up it Ben thought he heard the echoing rush of water on the other side. A cliff.  _ Kriff _ . He was headed for a cliff.

He turned around as he reached the top and faced her. Unlike him she was barely winded by the run though sweat beaded on her forehead. Her red blades continued to hum and crackle as she dragged them against the ground. 

“You’re going to choose to die?” she asked.

“No, not really,” Ben said as he backed away. He grinned. “Just need to keep you here while people escape.”

“You think you can stop me?” she asked, bemused by the grin he was giving her. “You? A smuggler?”

“Sure I can. Besides…” He stepped back to the edge of the quarry. “I think you want me to.”

That made her roll her eyes and groan in pure exasperation. “You’re insufferable.”

“Been called worse, sweetheart.” He edged back. Darth Ceria shifted her lightsaber about with a solid snap so that the dual blades faced him. 

“There’s nowhere left to go,” she warned. “Don’t make me destroy you.”

That made that stupid grin widen further. “I knew you didn’t want to kill me.”

To Darth Ceria’s surprise, even after he said that he did an even stupider thing. He stepped backward over the edge of the cliff and fell from sight. She wasn’t sure why but she lurched forward, hand outstretched, willing the Force.

Except nothing sprang to her power and it was confusing.

Then she heard the roar of engines and a Corellian freighter suddenly hovered up. Ben Solo stood on the roof, grinning at her as he rested the blaster at his thigh. Her eyes narrowed and she reached out with the Force again. The freighter choked to a stop, halted by her power, and she smiled as she started to draw it closer to herself. She just needed a moment to bring it close enough that she could get aboard.

Then, impossibly, it began to move on its own  _ away from her _ . Startled, she glanced at Ben and saw his eyes were closed. A strangely calm expression was on his face and he was breathing deeply. Then his eyes opened and he caught her confused glance with his own. There was nothing smug in that expression.

Something passed then between them, something unknowable and deep, and Ceria felt herself shrinking back. Not out of fear but something else.

_ She knew him as if she knew herself. _

Furious that he was distracting her, she changed the direction of her Force pull and hauled him off of the Falcon. He fell hard on the ground and with the Force humming through her she shoved him onto his knees before her. Her hand was about his throat before he could stop her and she squeezed threateningly, forcing Ben to look up at her.

“Show me,” she whispered. “Show me who you are.”

The Force shone between them and then, like a band, it snapped tight and ripped through them like live electrical wires. Ben felt the moment she entered his mind and at the same moment he was thrown deep into hers. It wasn’t what he expected. It was tunnels of darkness with spots of light, memories passing him so quickly he couldn’t absorb them. It was feelings of abandonment, of revenge and fear, and sheer agony, lived in every day until it blurred together and began to become simply... _ pain _ . He saw the little girl, the frightened child, screaming for her mother. He saw everything that had made her what she was. The brokenness of her was astonishing.

Darth Ceria wasn’t any better. She had felt the moment the connection blossomed and it was horrible. She penetrated his mind and saw the lonely boy rescued from a fate indescribable. A young teenager raised as a Jedi before abandoning his true destiny only to become a smuggler just like his father. A son of a Senator with the blood of a Scoundrel. 

But that wasn’t what made her recoil.

Worse. She felt something else, something that had been stitched into her, rip apart. Her ever present connection, telepathic and deep, with her grandfather was gone. He wasn’t in her head. The silence was terrifying. It was as if someone had thrown her into the vacuum of space. For a moment she faltered, misstepping away from this strange Solo man who looked up at her from eyes that were growing dark with confusion.

She wasn’t seeing him. She was seeing that one connection she had in the galaxy evaporate away in the heat of this Force connection and it filled her with panic. Her lightsaber extinguished and she struggled to catch her breath. But the confines of the mask made it impossible to take more than deep laboured breaths. Mind blank with confused horror at being so alone, she tore the mask from her face and backed away from the edge of the cliff.

Darth Ceria reached up and he watched her click a lever on her mask. It hissed as it came apart and she drew it away from her mouth. 

The woman beneath was every bit as lovely as he’d thought and Ben stared at her. Her face was indeed impish, her mouth wide and her nose pert. She looked...innocent. Ben shook himself when he realized he was staring. He watched, confused as well, as the mask clattered to the forest floor and left behind a woman younger than him. A woman who looked ready to lose her mind. He felt that deepening connection weaving between them and he felt her intent long before she made a move to reignite her lightsaber. Holding his hand out, he closed his eyes and bent all of his willpower to protecting himself.

Darth Ceria struggled through the silence in her head and heard, like an echo, something reverberating back at her. She grabbed hold of it and hauled it close desperately, wrapping her own Force signature around it in her fear. 

It wasn’t her Master, her Grandfather, though. Nor was it the presence of Snoke.

It was Solo. It was his Force Signature, bright as a star with threads of darkness twined about it.

Horrified, she released him and staggered back, staring at him in shock. Ben stared back at her as the Falcon now hovered behind him, ramp lowered just enough for him. Darth Ceria felt her lungs inhale the unfamiliar air of Takodana, felt them screaming for the precious changed air her mask had supplied her, and she stared at him as he calmly stepped back into the Falcon.

As the Falcon quickly closed up, leaving him staring at nothing at all, Ben struggled with what he had just seen. 

What haunted Ben was the utter confusion in her face, the fear.

He’d never thought to see a Sith so afraid before.

He hadn’t thought to  _ care. _


	9. Unsettled Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sudden violent connection between Ben and Darth Ceria plays upon them as the Millenium Falcon races towards the home of the Resistance

“Get him on the bunk! We need to make sure nothing is damaged too bad before we can find a medic,” Poe ordered Chewie as they carried Finn through the Falcon together. Around them the air smelt of smoke and cauterized flesh, the stink of it filtering through the entire room, and every time they had to shift Finn in their arms he would moan in pain. Together, they slung Finn up onto a bunk and Poe hurriedly undid the shirt he wore, hissing in a breath when he saw the long strip of red damaged tissue. Finn moaned again, a shaking hand coming out to try to touch the wound. Poe was quick to catch that hand and push it away.

“Chewie, you got anything for the pain?” Poe asked the Wookie who quickly retreated to the med unit to find the package they kept for such occasions. Poe tapped Finn gently on the cheek and held his head steady so that he could look into his eyes. His eyes were rolling back and forth as shock started to settle in. “Hey. Hey. Stay with me, buddy.”

“Hurts,” Finn protested when Poe reached down and began to try to ease the flesh together, only succeeding in keeping it from separating further. Finn twitched on the bed, eyes rolling back again. “Kriff.”

“You need to stay with me,” Poe insisted. He glanced at BB8. “Go get my jacket. He needs something to bite on when we start pushing this wound together soon. I don’t think he’ll bleed out but the damage might be irreparable. Chewie! The painkillers?!?”

From the doorway, Ben watched them and made no move to enter the quarters or to help. He could hear Chewie berating them all for leaving themselves so open for attack, but he didn’t digest anything his old friend was saying. He didn’t feel much of anything except the cold of the Dark side. He stared sightlessly at Finn, at the wound in his side, and in his eyes he saw dripping blood and blaster wounds. He saw smoke and fire, felt the cold when there should have been heat. Like a vision from his past come true. Then the vision changed and the blood was gone.

He could only see  _ her _ . Standing before him, face twisted in fear and confusion as she strained against what they both had felt. The utter power of the Force between them.

Ben’s own confusion was starting to deepen with each passing second. 

“We’re in the clear. I set us on the route Maz sent us and we’ve got a ship coming to escort us to the Resistance base,” Han said as he came into the room. He passed Ben, giving his quiet son only a cursory glance before he knelt beside Poe to look down on Finn. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s been sliced bad but I think he’ll live. The blow missed any major organs,” Poe said as Chewie came back with a jug of painkillers. Poe said nothing when he realized that Chewie’s version of painkillers was just liquor. “We’ll need to keep him under for a while. You got anything else?”

“We usually get by without. We’ll get him to the Resistance as fast as we can.”

Poe’s thick brows shot up to his hairline. “So you’re taking us there after all, huh?”

Han shrugged. “We don’t have a choice now, Dameron.” He waved his hand and leaned over Finn. “Brave of you, kid,” Han said as he put his palm flat on Finn’s sweated forehead. “You were real brave.”

“Thanks. Feel stupid right now,” Finn groaned as he closed his eyes. 

“You didn’t realize what you were getting into. Means you’re gonna make a fine rebel,” Han joked. “Right, Ben? Ben?”

The silence that met him made Han look around to see the space where Ben had been was now empty. There was no sign of his son.

#

Darth Ceria wasn’t prone to rage. Endless lessons from her Grandfather had forced that out of her years ago. Lessons, punishments, everything had done to her to be sure she had iron control of herself and her emotions. Especially in times of utter confusion and stress.

It was why the way she was currently throwing people out of her way was so unusual for her. And so fear inspiring. Left and right stormtroopers went flying the same as commanders did, technicians hid in alcoves, and even janitors ducked into rooms to avoid notice. Darth Ceria didn’t care who her untamed anger touched. So long as they ran away from her, she kept walking fast and without taking her eyes from her goal.

The door to the chamber of Snoke.

With a grim sense of satisfaction, Hux cowered as she stormed down the aisle of the command ship towards Snoke, intent on getting to the Supreme Leader. “Where are you going?” he dared to ask when she came close. She didn’t stop moving, ready to shove around him if she had to.

“I need to speak with the Supreme Leader,” she snarled but he stepped in front of her. Behind him two Praetorian guards also came forward, red armour gleaming in the light, and she heard the weapons being clicked on. The hum was distinctive.

“The Supreme Leader is indisposed at the moment.”

She seethed. She wanted to choke Hux until he turned blue. Until he begged her for mercy, a mercy she wouldn’t give.

As if by wishful thinking alone, the Force snapped out around his throat and she hauled him close. Her mask, replaced where it should have been on her face, made an odd hissing noise as she struggled to control her anger. It would be so easy, so very easy, to kill Hux. She wanted to, Force how she wanted to, but the two guards looked ready to pounce at the first sign of her disobedience to Snoke’s orders to not kill Hux. Weakened by her confusion and agony from Takodana as she was, she didn’t dare attack them.

The time wasn’t right.

She searched Hux’s pale face for a clue of what was going on but there was nothing there. She didn’t want to bother to dip into his mind.

“Tell Phasma I want the Knights of Ren contacted. They will be needed shortly. Then set a course to follow the Millenium Falcon immediately. I want the Solos alive.”

She let him go and Hux rubbed at his throat. “Don’t let your personal feelings get involved, my Lady. I heard rumours of how you were duped by Ben Solo.”

With a snarl, she threw him to the ground with the Force. The guards, to their credit, only gave her a warning step forward just before she stalked away. 

“I’ll be in my quarters,” she shouted over her shoulder. The two approaching admirals, obviously coming for a meeting with Snoke, leapt out of her way. 

That she was inspiring such fear was no longer as delicious as it had been before.

Not when it had been proven that some people did not even fear her.

#

Ben sat at the controls of the Falcon, busying himself with the messages flying in from the Resistance. He’d taken the ship off auto-pilot and dropped her out of hyperspace as the calls came in. Though he was in the darkness of interstellar space, he felt the utter chaos of millions of systems. The Resistance itself was in an uproar. Their allies in the Hosnian system had been completely destroyed. 

The seat of the Republic was no more.

Anarchy reigned.

There was nowhere to hide from the machinations of the First Order.

Ben fielded the messages and listened for the tell-tale signal of an approaching friendly ship with only half a mind for what he was doing. He did it all so automatically. Years of training kept him from wandering off course. Even though his mind was a million light years away, he was still able to do as his father taught him.

“You okay?” Han asked as he came in and dropped into his seat beside Ben. He reached out when Ben was too quiet and was surprised when his son flinched away under the pretense of checking the ship’s vital signs. Han sighed. “You’re shook up.”

“I’m just making sure we’re getting there in one piece,” Ben said. “What do you need?”

Han put his hands in the air. “Here to help.”

“You know I can take care of her.”

“I know.” Han hesitated then leaned forward a little. “You saved Finn’s life, Ben. Even though it was a fight you didn’t know you could win, you still went in to try to save him. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

“Yeah, it’s a great thing,” Ben muttered as he flipped a switch. “Won’t do us much good if we end up dodging asteroids or more First Order TIE fighters.”

“Ben. Stop.” Han reached out and put his hand on Ben’s shoulder, squeezing. He ignored how the muscled shoulder under his hand tightened. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. You won’t understand,” his son ground out between clenched teeth. Then he hesitated, hand hovering over the controls. Ben stared at the switches and dials without seeing them. He knew when he had to give up and this was one of those times. He sighed and reached up to rub at his temples. It was the first time that Han noticed that he had dried blood in a stain down the side of his face over an eye. “Can you take over? I need to go wash up before we reach the Resistance.”

“Yeah, your mom will worry if she sees the blood. Go on.”

Ben was quick to leave and Han sighed to himself as he turned to the controls. “Princess, I hope you can get a handle on him,” he muttered to his wife. Sometimes he wished he had the same strange connection she had with Luke. That way he could have been sure she heard him and was ready for the deeply troubled nature of their son.

#

The moment he came to the tiny ‘fresher basin Ben picked up the hand mirror and smashed it on the counter. He wasn’t sure why he did it. It simply felt good to do. 

“ _ Rage and destruction. Signs of the Dark side, _ ” he heard his uncle’s lecture fresh in his mind and he dismissed it just as quickly as it came. He shoved away from the counter and sat down on the bench opposite. For a moment it felt as if the very walls were closing in around him. Ben lowered his head to his hands and sucked in a deep breath as he stared at the space between his boots.

He saw her so clearly in the grate, the way a reflection might have shimmered at him. Then it was gone and all that was left was metal and recycled air around him. Still he felt an oddness in the Force. It didn’t threaten him, not really. It was a cold sensation, as if ice was being rubbed up his spine, and he shivered when it curled around him. It brought back a distant memory of travelling with his uncle to Dagobah when he’d been newly apprenticed and so eager to become a Jedi like his grandfather and uncle before him. Dagobah had been the beginning of the end of that dream. He still remembered its darkness. Still remembered the cold pit of despair one solitary place had made him feel.

This was so much  _ worse _ .

“How can you live like this?” he whispered to the air itself. There was no answer, not that he expected one, but he knew what he was feeling wasn’t just his own feelings. This was something else,  _ someone else, _ and it gnawed at him. Desperate to break away from the pattern of anger and fear that was already resonating in him, he straightened his back and brought his long legs up onto the bench in a cross-legged fashion. He closed his eyes and took in a long, steadying breath before he reached out through the Force for that brush of the Light. That soft warmth he knew.

It came to him quickly, a comforting touch that enveloped him from head to toe. Ben sighed and let it suffuse his every nerve and vein. It felt as if his own mother was here holding him. He hadn’t realized he was reaching out for her until this very moment and for a moment he didn’t care. He needed the steady control his mother radiated.

He needed to know he wasn’t about to delve too deep into the Dark Side itself.

Then a sinister feeling seeped into him, filling him with its cold fury. 

“ _ I’m coming to kill you, Ben Solo.” _

Ben ignored that toneless voice and reached out again for that familiar warmth. Only this time he felt something new. This presence wasn’t the warmth of his mother nor the rock-steady patience of his uncle.

This was passion and fury wrapped within cold control.

“ _ You won’t escape me.” _

_ # _

Darth Ceria struggled with what she was feeling through the Force as she strained to meditate with her usual mastery. She needed balance to contact her Grandfather, to feel his all-too necessary sense of control, to feel him beside her, within her. She needed the Dark Side and its promises of consuming power. She needed to know that the Dark Side, that her only connection, hadn’t abandoned her.

“Grandfather,” she whispered. “Be with me.”

His cold presence, one that usually wrapped around her like an icy shell, was nowhere to be found. She reached across the stars, sinking deeper and deeper into her meditative state, and struggled to control the Force that churned within her.

Only it wasn’t her grandfather who reached back. It was a call. A strange one. One of loneliness, not unlike hers. Only this one shone across from her like a beacon. It felt….warm. It felt like the touch of a hand.

A toneless voice echoed through the darkness of her thoughts.

“ _ I’ll kill you next time.” _

The threat was in her mind and felt driven by some self-righteous anger. The threat didn’t worry her. It was something else. Furious that she was being touched by such light, such warmth, she opened her eyes.

#

His eyes popped open at the sensation of being watched and Ben stared into the wary eyes of Darth Ceria. She recoiled back into the wall and promptly disappeared from his vision. Chest heaving for breath, Ben realized he could  _ feel  _ her presence as if she sat before him still.

#

_ “What is this?” _ she whispered to herself. Then an all too familiar presence brushed up against her mind.

A call to come to the depths of the ship.

Snoke.

He might know.

Oh, how horrible his punishment was going to be when Hux told him all that had occurred on Takodana. Even though they were tracking the Falcon, there would not be any absolving the sin of her failure. Not easily, that was. Not even her bloodline would keep her from punishment. It wouldn’t matter to Snoke what had happened or how it had happened.

Much like her Grandfather, he would only see her failure.

Still she struggled with one thought.

_ Why could she hear Ben Solo’s voice in her head, threatening her? _

A trick of the Force, Darth Ceria decided. That was all it was. It shouldn’t worry her.

This had happened before, when she had been a child. She had gone to a Sith devout, a tutor of governance and bureaucracy, and cried that someone was whispering to her. Promising her that they’d come back to her. The woman had slapped her and told her to never to listen to such voices nor the lies they told. Then Darth Ceria had known the truth, even as a child. No one had ever wanted her, not even her parents, and no one would want her. There was only Grandfather and his faithful. They wanted her. They were her home.

She had long since learned that to be true since coming to the First Order and she knew her place in this great plan. Soon, very soon, they would all know her place.

Hissing in a breath, Darth Ceria turned her head and focussed her eyes on the damaged lightsaber sitting atop her desk. She needed to repair it, she decided. Yes. That was what she would do. She would repair it and present it for Snoke’s inspection. She would submit to his judgement and promise Ben Solo’s head alongside Luke Skywalker’s as penance for her failure. She didn’t doubt that that would fix things.

She was so good at fixing things.


	10. The Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which sometimes reunions are short and evil cannot wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to keep this story fast paced is a giant pain in my usually overdescriptive butt

* * *

* * *

_ Dantooine… _

_ Where were they? Had something happened?  _ For a moment she had felt such a strange sense of desperation, of fear, so cold that it had pierced her to the quick. It had travelled down her spine and settled in the pit of her stomach until there was nothing more to feel than fear itself. With a quiet resignation, she sank into a trance-like state, hoping to let it flow through her, the way that her brother had taught her so many years ago. It soothed her, nearly let her feel his presence in a place where he’d not been in over thirty years. It had been five years since they had spoken and now she needed him more than ever. The Resistance needed him more than ever.

She didn’t want to entertain the other possibility. That there was another that the Resistance might need as much. She _ wouldn’t _ entertain that thought, refused to with a stubbornness her husband was used to. No matter what she had said twenty years ago, or even a few years ago, she would not risk the loves of her life. Not even for this mission. The losses of Hosnian system had hit her so hard and she had for a moment feared they might be there. Destroyed with billions of others.

“General?”

The quiet voice of Kaydel Connix broke General Leia Organa’s thoughts on the Skywalker/Solo family and she sighed in relief. “What is it, Kaydel?”

“The readings are back from Hosnian System.” Kaydel handed the tablet over to her and Leia stared at the readings as if they might bite her. She knew already what they said. “The entire system has been obliterated.”

“Thank you, Kaydel, I can see that.” Leia sighed. “No survivors of course.”

“None. What destroyed it...General, there were no sightings of a ship before the destruction. All the local routes reported…”

“On the routes,” Leia interrupted. “Anyone in the line of fire?”

Kaydel swallowed hard. “Destroyed.”

“Of course.” Leia sighed again and put her hand to her forehead. “Our allies were wiped out. The Hosnian ones, anyway. Send word to those on Coruscant and Cloud City. We are going to need them.”

“I will, General.”

Before the young woman could leave, she raised a hand. “Kaydel? Has there been any word from the Millenium Falcon?”

“Just a transmission from Takodana and Maz,” Kaydel said. “They were sent our coordinates.”

“Good.” Leia clutched her hand over the medallion she always kept in her pocket. Her talisman against the evil that was slowly coming to eruption. “Good.”

* * *

“ _ I’m coming to find you, Ben Solo. I will destroy everything you love. Then? Then you will turn…it is your destiny...” _

Ben snapped out of his trance when that voice intruded on his meditation. After a gruelling session of patching Finn up, he’d retreated to the gunner seat, the only quiet place left on the Falcon, and dropped into a meditation the way his uncle had taught him. Ben often didn’t like to meditate, found it frustrating because he could never clear his thoughts easily enough. When other padawans had mastered that skill flawlessly, he had always struggled.

Now he had voices in his head threatening to kill him. Great. Just great. His father would no doubt have words about that if he told him.

“We’re dropping down!” Han shouted and Ben swivelled his seat around to look at the beauty of Dantooine. He was familiar with the planet. During one of her many diplomatic missions carried out in secret, Leia had resecured the old Rebel base and was quick to make it ready for use again.  _ Just in case.  _ Ben hated that her instincts had been right but that was the way of it. His mother, as his father had often grudgingly admitted, was almost always right.

His stomach churned nervously at the thought of facing his mother. It had been three years since he had last seen her and that last time had been...awkward. She had wanted him to stay, to give up smuggling and try diplomacy for a change rather than blasters but Ben had too much of his father in him to settle for politics. He had tasted the freedom of his father’s life and he understood its seduction. He wasn’t sure what reception he’d get from General Organa-Solo and part of him dreaded it. 

When the Falcon dropped out of atmo and cruised for a surprisingly smooth landing toward the base, it was odd that they weren’t marked or escorted. Han murmured that he’d have a talk with Leia about that and Poe had naturally agreed.

Ben didn’t think it was a good plan to go challenging his mother with that but he knew it’d happen anyway.

When the Falcon landed, Poe was first out with Chewie, holding Finn between them. A med unit was there to meet him and immediately he was strapped down to oxygen and escorted toward the bay where med droids were waiting. Han and Ben exchanged a long look.

“Can’t separate them already, huh?” Han asked.

Ben gave his father a wise look. “You look nervous.”

“Nervous, me? What about?” Han asked even as he fixed his collar. “It’s just your mother.”

“That’s probably why,” Ben muttered as he grabbed his black coat from a peg and shrugged it on. He fixed his own collar meticulously.

Han smirked. “You look nervous,” he parroted. “Grab the case from our last run and make sure your mother doesn’t notice it. She’ll have my head.”

Ben glared at him but said nothing as he picked up the case of Rathtar eggs before he headed down the ramp. There were Resistance members everywhere, running from ship to ship and talking far too fast. Clearly the Falcon had been expected. Ben tracked them to see where the entrance was and was turning mid-stride only to come face to face with a golden droid. The droid gave a surprised sound and lifted his arms in the air in his excitement.

“Why, Master Ben! It has been approximately 1277.5 days since we last spoke. I am quite certain you remember me of course. I am C-3PO, human…”

“Cyborg relations. Yeah, I got it the first time you told me when I was a kid. And every other time you’ve told me,” Ben grunted. C-3PO’s perpetually frozen face actually seemed to flicker a little at the eyes. Ben had an idea that would get him in a world of trouble but he couldn’t resist toying with the overly polite droid. “Do me a favour, 3PO? Carry this case and dump it in a trash compactor.”

“Pardon me, sir, but I am a protocol droid. I am not a janitorial droid.” C-3PO’s voice had taken on a miffed tone. “But I will summon one for you. I am certain I can be of use to you as the General is on her way.”

“3PO, take the box,” Han said as he followed his son out of the Falcon. He wasn’t looking at the golden droid though. His eyes were locked on Chewie and the small woman hugging the large Wookie who had enfolded her in his hairy arms.

Disgruntled as he was, C-3PO obeyed his mistress’s husband by taking the box. He couldn’t stop himself from muttering away about what his actual protocol was as he headed towards the janitorial unit tucked in the corner.

“Buckle up, kid,” Han told his son. “We’re about to get an earful.”

Leia turned from Chewie and faced her family. Immediately her eyes fell on her tall son and unlike years ago there was no hardness in her eyes this time. If anything, everything about her softened further. “Ben,” she whispered and she quickly crossed the landing strip to wrap her arms about her son before he could even think about the softness in her eyes.

Ben returned the embrace, aware of how small and frail his mother felt suddenly, and he squeezed his arms about her as he pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “Hi, Mom.”

She sniffed and broke away, leaning back so she could stare into his face. Leia’s matronly beauty was a relief to Ben because despite that frailness he thought he had felt there was also a hard strength in her, like steel. She put one hand to his face and stroked across his cheek, thumb trailing over the bruising just beneath his eye. “You look tired. And too thin.” Her eyes flickered over his shoulder. “Has that space pirate been feeding you?”

“Oh sure, blame me, I’m used to it,” Han mumbled in a good natured way as he fixed his collar yet again. 

Leia looked at him up and down. “Same jacket.”

He gestured at her head. “You changed your hair,” he commented as he ran his eyes over the braid coiled about her head. “Looks good.”

This wasn’t the usual fiery exchange between his parents and Ben let his mother step around him. She was quick to grab her husband by his collar and bring him down for a kiss, something that made Ben look away uncomfortably. Chewie grunted behind him with amusement and Ben glared at him.

“Shut up, Chewie,” he muttered. Chewie jostled his shoulder with his arm and gave a murmur of approval.

“ _ They love each other, kid. Let them have a moment.” _

Ben supposed he could do that much.

“This was not the greeting I expected,” Han said when they broke apart.

“I just watched an entire system be destroyed,” Leia said with a slight snap to her voice though her arms remained about his neck. “Trust me, I want to be sure both my boys are alright.”

“We’re fine,” Han said soothingly though his eyes darted to Ben. “Mostly.”

“Mostly? What does that mean?” Leia demanded and she turned to her son. “Ben?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, Mom, don’t worry about it,” he muttered.

Before he could flinch she was in front of him, a small tornado of the Force. “Ben.”

She said his name with a hint of steel that told him not to fight her on this.

“Mom...there’s something you need to know,” he began. “Something…”

But before he could say another word, a tall willowy woman appeared. “General, Poe Dameron supplied the intel. We’re pulling it up now and cross-referencing it with our data from the Hosnian system monitoring it.”

Leia nodded and the woman was quick to leave. With an arched brow, Leia looked back at the Solos. “Well? Are you coming or are you going to sit around doing nothing all day?” she challenged before heading toward the bunker

Han and Ben shared a long look. “After you, kid. I know what we’re walking into.”

“What’s that?” Ben asked. 

“Trouble. Always trouble.”

* * *

Poe had received a hero’s welcome and Finn an immediate welcome into the Resistance fold. The med droids had made quick work with bacta patching and though Finn had groaned and grumbled he had also been insistent that he’d follow Poe to the war room. There they had quickly handed over the intel from BB8, the little droid miffed that he hadn’t been invited to stand on his own this time, and watched as thousands of data points sprang up.

When the General arrived, the Solos on her heels, Poe had been quick to salute her and Finn followed suit. Her dark eyes, so like her son’s, flicked over the defected trooper. “You are?”

“FN-2187,” Finn said as his training kicked in. Then he stammered sheepishly, “Finn, ma’am.”

“Finn. I hear we have you to thank for rescuing our best pilot.”

Han and Ben both snorted at the same time, earning them a disapproving look from Leia. She glared them both into submission before turning to Finn again. “You have a place with us, if you want it.”

“I don’t have a choice now,” he admitted and Leia smiled.

“Sometimes we don’t, do we?” she agreed. “Poe, you’ll be in charge of his training.”

“Already on it, General,” Poe said.

“Yeah I bet you are,” Ben muttered and Han jabbed him in the side hard to shut him up. Leia turned her arched look on her son who gave her a pleasantly blank smile in return. Poe glared at him while Finn seemed to be quite unaware of his meaning, giving Poe a friendly jostle.

“Go easy on me,” he joked.

Ben snorted back a chuckle.

“Stop it,” Han warned though he was grinning as well.

“If my son can handle it, I’d like to proceed with the intel disclosure,” Leia said with one last warning look at her son. Ben’s pleasant smile didn’t fade as he followed his father to stand by one of the struts supporting the armoury. Leia nodded in satisfaction and turned to Admiral Acbar who was waiting patiently, his bulging eyes flickering with stern disapproval at the joking Solos.

“The intel Captain Dameron received from our source in the First Order is exactly what we were worried about,” he said as he flicked his hand over the screen before him. Immediately the crowd of commanders were faced with a map of machinery and written code. “This is a weapon of mass destruction.”

“Another Death Star?” Wedge asked from where he was seated. Han gave him a nod that he returned. It was always good to see old members of the Rebels among them.

“Nothing like that,” Kaydel said. She waved her hand over the green sketching. “This is something just as bad though.”

She pinched her fingers together and the plans zoomed in. “This writing is ancient so we can’t transcribe it…”

Ben shifted uncomfortably and Han gave him a worried look.

“...but the plans are clear.”

The plans swung out and revealed what appeared to be a massive engine with a hollow core. “This?” Ackbar gestured. “The read out suggests it is a core energy source powered by solar infusion.”

“Solar infusion?” a commander asked.

“The source converts the power of the stars and contains it within a magnetic field. The younger the star, the more powerful the source. They must be powering this machine from the nebula in the outer regions.”

“Or waiting for older stars to go supernova,” said a scientist from where he was running readings.

“We know what this is designed for,” Poe said.

“Destruction,” Leia agreed before shaking her head. “How did they destroy Hosnian system?”

“The plans suggest that there is more than one ship capable of this but they need a command ship. The source is then carried across multiple smaller ships...like connecting dots. It leaps from source to source, powering itself across the stars. They’ve built containing units that can direct the power in several beams that then diffuse the power down to strike deep into planetary core,” Ackbar explained. “It ruptures the crust of the planet and causes it to explode. As if it has been struck by another planet.”

“Almost like a tidal force?” Han asked.

Leia gave him an impressed look that made him wink at her.

“Whatever it does, it destroys a planet,” Leia said. “That’s enough. How do we destroy it?”

“The secret is in these codes here. The ship was designed not from the flag ships of the First Order but from somewhere else. We can’t read it,” Kaydel explained. “It’s a language we don’t understand.”

“It’s Sith,” Ben said unexpectedly. 

An entire room turned toward him and he shifted from foot to foot, making a point of keeping his attention solely on the plans.

“Sith? That’s just...that’s legend!” exclaimed another commander. 

Leia met Ben’s eyes and he only nodded once as if to drive his point home. “I trust Ben,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.

“You trust a smuggler?” snipped a green Twi’lek woman dressed in outlandish purple beneath her more sedate grey robes. “Is that what our Resistance has come to?”

“Man, don’t tell her how it used to be,” Han said from his comfortable lean against the strut. Ben glanced at him and so did Poe but it was Leia who caught their attention again.

“If Ben says it is Sith, then it is. But why would Snoke encrypt his plans that way?” Leia mused aloud. “Most of his own people wouldn’t be able to read Sith languages, I imagine.”

Ben thought to himself  _ because they aren’t his plans _ but shook that thought off, not sure where it had come from. It was stupid to think such things. Snoke was a relic, a remainder of the Imperial forces that had resisted the New Republic.

A New Republic that was in pieces now.

“If they can take this technology and obliterate a system,” Ackbar said, “then they can do it everywhere they can reach within the planetary systems, so long as they are close enough to stars capable of powering the core engine of the command ship.”

“Maybe further.”

“There’s rumours,” said the Twi’lek commander, “of forces massing in the Outer Rim.”

“Those are rumours,” Leia said, “and we need facts. We need to deal with the now.”

“The now is how do we destroy those things before they can do more damage?” Poe asked for them all. 

Han shifted from his lean to come to Leia’s side, his eyes wandering over the intel. He reached out and ran his hand over the glowing edges of the doc and flicked his fingers through it. “Something this big...has to have a weakness. An oversight.”

A private came up behind Kaydel and began to whisper in a hushed voice but Han ignored that, lost in his own thoughts.

“What kind of weakness?” Poe asked.

Han looked at Finn who shook his head. “Back in the War, we used to have to find weaknesses all the time. A weapon like this would be geared into the core of the ship. Run by its own power sources to keep it from exploding. My best bet is that they are running the entire ship on core drives, instead of multiple engines. They sacrifice speed for fire power.”

Ben ran his eyes over the intel but his gaze kept drifting back to the Sith encryption at the bottom. It had to be something. If only he could remember that part of Luke’s training though his old Master hadn’t been fluent in Sith.

“What about 3PO?” he muttered to himself then shook that off. C-3PO knew a lot of languages but Ben doubted the protocol droid knew much about Sith. The droid was old but not that old. Still, he thought the encryption held the key.

Finn gave him a quizzical look as if he sensed Ben’s thoughts about the encryption.

“What about here?” Han was saying, drawing their attention to the core. BB8 had zoomed the map in on a section where the detail was very clear. It showed the massive core engine being run by row after row of smaller engines. “If we can get on the main command ship and blow this to space, maybe we’ve got a shot.”

“No ship can fit through there,” Poe said. “I couldn’t fly in and just poof, there it goes. This isn’t the Death Star, you know.”

That old memory made Han look at Leia wryly and she smiled back.

“No, you can’t. But if we can get on the ship somehow, a ground team can take it out,” Han explained. “Enter here.” He showed the massive entrance where the weapon would normally have fired. “And land in the bay beneath the beam.”

“A ground crew,” Poe repeated. “You’re insane.” Then he grinned. “So you’d need a distraction. Firepower?”

Han grinned at the map. “We’d need some pretty fancy flying.”

Ben shifted, his dark eyes flicking over the scene before him. A slight twist of jealousy sprung to mind when he saw everyone looking at Poe in encouragement.

But Leia caught the look and nodded. “That’s why Ben and Han will lead the ground crew. Poe, you’ll lead the assault with the others.”

Her son blinked a few times in thought before looking at her. 

“The Solos, General?” Ackbar said with just a hint of derision in his voice.

“The only ones I trust with a mission like this.” She sighed. “Thankfully we have some time to prepare.”

Kaydel’s conversation was still ongoing and Ben looked at her. Leia followed his gaze and cleared her throat. “Kaydel? Something you want to add?”

The young woman’s face was stricken as she turned from her subordinate to the General. She gulped and set her hand down on the table. “General...we have sources…”

“Sources that are saying what?” Poe prompted.

“The First Order Fleet has entered our system.”

That made the entire room erupt into chaos for a brief moment, shouted exclamations and curses in all languages before Leia swung her hand out. Ben felt the Force crackle about her as she called out, “Be quiet!”

Then she turned to Kaydel. “How?”

“The Millenium Falcon must have been followed. Somehow.”

Finn closed his eyes. “A tracker. They must have put a tracker on it.”

“Kriff,” Han muttered before looking at Ben. “Chewie took care of that with our scanners.”

“Something must have been missed,” Leia said. “Or it’s…”

“Technology we don’t know about yet,” Ben said. He stepped forward to the table. “Looks like plans just got moved ahead of schedule.”

“Do you think their Contingency is in the fleet?” Han asked Kaydel.

“The ships arrived from Hosnian system. One ship is travelling slower than the others and from our readings it is...very large. Several are not typical Destroyers, not in make. They’re moving slowly compared to a Destroyer. They are still some distance away.”

“In formation, I bet,” Wedge said.

“Then that’s likely,” Han muttered. He looked at Ben. “What do you think, kid? You ready for this?”

“Don’t think we have a choice.”

“Ground crew then. Ben and I. Chewie.” The Wookie let out a low roar of approval. “Guess that’s it.”

“Me.” Finn stepped forward. Poe beamed at him and Finn blushed a little at the cheeks. “I mean, least I can do to help the Resistance.”

“That’s it then.”

“That’s it?” Leia stared at her husband. “Just you four?”

“We don’t want to attract too much attention. This is going to take some fancy flying in the Falcon to pull off. That’s why I need a small crew.”

Her eyes remained locked on her husband for a moment before Leia leaned forward. “Poe, get your command together immediately. We have limited time.”

He gave her a snappy salute. “We’re ready to defend the Resistance, General.”

Then he was gone with a pack of commanders behind him, shouting orders. Ackbar sighed and took a seat. “I’m too old for this,” he muttered to himself. Then his large eyes fixed on Han. “You will be our hope in this, General Solo.”

“As usual,” Han said with a smarmy grin. “Come on, Ben, let’s get some explosives and be on our way.”

Leia caught Ben’s eye for a moment before he followed his father out.

* * *

“I don’t like this,” Leia said as she stood outside the Falcon’s ramp, looking up at her husband and son as they hurriedly packed. “You don’t even have a plan!”

“I never do,” her husband said as he tossed Chewie a bag.

“Han, this could be your worst idea yet.”

“It’s this or you lose everything you worked for,” Han said as he passed her to grab another box. “And, princess, don’t say I never give you anything.”

“Beyond aging me beyond belief?” she snapped. “Han, this...this feels wrong. I don’t know why.”

“Feels wrong? Who are you? Luke?” Han asked as he poked his head out to look at her. Chewie rumbled his agreement as he quickly scanned the Falcon for the tracker. “Speaking of, where is your brother anyway?”

“That’s classified,” Leia said.

“He’s the kid’s uncle,” Han wheedled.

“Don’t bring me into this,” Ben said as he came back down to his mother’s side. “Chewie? Anything?”

The Wookie’s furry head disappeared into the engine compartment at the top and he let out a yowl. A small ball of green came flying out at Ben’s head and he was quick to catch it. It had flown on its own and Ben recognized an Imperial droid when he saw one. It stung at his hand repeatedly and he quickly stuffed it into one of the spare sacks before squeezing it. His massive hand crunched the droid in two and it gave a pathetic whistle before dying.

“Mom? I think you will need this,” he said as he handed the sack over to Leia.

She let it fall to her feet. “Ben, this was not how I wanted our next reunion to go.”

Ben hesitated. He wanted to tell her about Darth Ceria, about the fear, about the hate, all of it. But he could see her worries plain on her face so he kept it hidden with a cocky grin he didn’t feel honest about.

“We can’t always have what we want, can we?” Han said as he passed them again.

Ben rolled his eyes at his father but focussed down on his mother. “We’ll be fine.”

Leia lowered her voice. “Take care of your father, Ben. He needs you to keep him from doing anything foolish.”

Ben gave her a half-grin. “I’ll keep him safe, Mom, I promise.”

Before he could dodge her, she wrapped him in her arms tight and patted his back. “There’s no one I trust more to keep that old space dog coming back to me.”

“Take a lot more than the First Order to get rid of Han Solo,” Han said as he came down the ramp. He swept both of them into a half-embrace and grinned cheekily. “Like to see them try.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Let’s get going.” He glanced at where Finn was watching the old X-Wings take off from the landing strip. 

“Big Deal! Let’s go!” Han shouted for him. 

The young man gave the strip one last look before nodding. “Right, let’s go.”

He was running up the ramp behind Ben when Han turned back to Leia. “Well, princess, going to give me a kiss for good luck?”

Before she could speak, he swooped in and planted a gentle kiss on her mouth. Leia stroked his hair back from his face and smiled up at him. 

“Protect him, Han. I’m worried about him,” she whispered so Ben couldn’t overhear. “Ben is going to mean so much to the Resistance someday.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Han said with a grin. “No one is going to hurt that kid with me around. We’ll be just fine.”

He gave her one last kiss on the forehead and headed up the ramp after his motley crew. Leia stepped back to a point of safety before turning around. She could just make out her son and husband flying together and she sighed in relief. 

Together, they’d be safe. She just had to trust the Force.

“May the Force be with you,” she whispered the old adage and prayed it would keep them safe.


	11. In the Dark of Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Resistance heads into battle and Ben towards his destiny

The private officer’s bridge of the massive dreadnought was almost empty except for a few technicians manning the controls. It was unusual, headed into battle as they were, but that had been the orders. Clear the bridge. Allow for silence. Do not disturb Lady Ceria no matter what. Especially if you valued your throat. She’d been choking people on whim lately and that itself was unusual. She was usually so reserved from them all.

The technicians working were sure to keep their heads down. They’d heard of her tantrum on the Supremacy and they didn’t want to chance catching her eye. They were choosing to live another day. Already they were dreading delivering her any news at all.

At least General Hux couldn’t strangle them with a mere lift of his finger.

An imposing figure of black robes, Darth Ceria stared out the viewport at the system coming into view. She tapped the hilt of her lightsaber absently with one finger and kept her eyes on the dark of space as they left the interstellar wastes into the outer rim of the solar system.  _ Tap, Tap, Tap _ . Each tap helped her balance herself in a time when she desperately needed to keep her irritation under control. Each click went by without her really absorbing the slow speed they were travelling at. Hux had been in and out, his usual snide remarks no longer just reserved for the technicians. 

But she knew what it was. He was bloodthirsty. He was ready to destroy and rip apart what remained of the Resistance.

On a whim, she closed her hazel eyes and sunk into a meditative trance so quickly that no one might have noticed the instant her breathing deepened or her hands went slack at her side. Her modulator made a humming noise when she suspended breathing, her back up system pumping more precious air into her in case she held her breath too long naturally. Her grandfather’s gift to keep her alive, as he had always told her.

_ Her grandfather… _

She reached out across the stars, desperate to feel for him once more. As harsh as he had been during her upbringing, he had been her only constant. She needed him. She needed to tap into that sinister power of his, a power that had been balanced by his sheer cunning. She wished she was as cunning as him. She might not feel so trapped if she had half her grandfather’s cunning. He had survived death itself. Darth Ceria might not be so lucky if Hux had his way with licking the boots of Snoke.

But instead of finding his powerful incandescent presence, the Force pulled her forward. Forward until she saw a shaft of light against her closed lids. In the form of a man. The light burned her and curled about her body, tugging her forward one resisting step at a time. It was the strangest sensation. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay or to go.  _ What was she thinking? _ Darth Ceria had to leave this behind. With a hiss, she opened her eyes and turned around to avoid looking a second longer at the light.

She came face to face with the much taller Phasma. The silver trooper had her head cocked on the side. “We are awaiting orders, my Lady,” she said with just the right amount of respect. It was why Darth Ceria also respected her so much. The woman beneath the armour was ice and a perfect warrior. No wonder she had risen through the First Order.

“Deploy TIE squadrons to the southern region of Yavin IV and be sure to flush out all of them.”

“Deploy?” Hux’s harshly accented voice grated on her nerves as he arrived behind her. “Supreme Leader Snoke has advised we wait until we are in range.”

Darth Ceria hadn’t heard that. Phasma didn’t turn away but Hux had a look of utter superiority when she glanced at him. It would do no good to argue with him. She huffed in a breath and spun on her heel to walk past Hux. She didn’t stop her rapid pace until she reached her private quarters where she promptly slammed the door shut and spun about to climb onto her holopad. She shoved her key into the reciprocal and stood on the lit pad, eyes downcast as it hummed and sprang to life.

“What is it?” Snoke asked as he lit up larger than life above her.

“We are not going to attack?” she demanded. He was silent for a moment and she corrected herself, “Master?”

“The End of the Resistance must be a glorious execution. Swift and brutal, but it needs to make a statement as well,” Snoke said with relish, his small eyes narrowed as he looked down upon Darth Ceria with disdain. “I thought even you would appreciate brutality.”

“There is no glory in prolonging this battle,” she snapped. “We are only giving them time to run. We should send our attack in immediately.”

“The power of our ship must be witnessed,” Snoke argued.

“This is not some paltry Resistance, Supreme Leader!” she shouted. “You can’t be so blind to think…”

Like a snap of the Force, she was tossed to her knees and face down onto the floor. Gasping for air, she tried to see through the shocks of pain. Pain too much like lightning coursing through her veins. She twitched and stared at the floor, desperate not to reveal how much pain she was now in. It tore through her.

“Would you like to start again?” Snoke asked with the air of a man doing her a favour. She grit her teeth together and rose up as far as she dared. 

“We should attack them immediately, not draw this out,” she said with a calm she didn’t feel. 

Snoke leaned forward in his throne across the holo. “Indeed. Why?”

“Because this could go sideways so fast we will not be able to defeat them.”

“A paltry Resistance and...what is this? My young apprentice is afraid. How...disappointing,” Snoke said in his oily smooth voice. “How unfortunate.”

“Let me lead a squadron down,” she said. “I can…”

“No!” Snoke’s roar ripped through the air and made her private quarters shake. “You have proven yourself incompetent. Your fear…”

“I fear no one!” she shouted back. “No one!”

This time there was no pain. Snoke’s Force powers leapt across the stars to wrap around her and lift her up in the air despite her resistance. He brought her close to his holo and peered at her. 

“I see,” he whispered. “Oh, I see.” He dropped her to her feet again. “It is Ben Solo who has earned your hate and fear.”

“He…”

“But...yet...you have...envy for him. For his family.” Snoke’s eyes snapped with annoyance. “Your envy is becoming…”

Her eyes closed and she tried to block his probing. It didn’t matter the distance. Snoke’s power was so encompassing that it wrapped around her as he dove into her mind.

“Compassion.” Snoke clicked his tongue. “A dangerous emotion, Darth Ceria. Child, you are clearly out of your element.” He sat back and stared at her for a long, gut wrenching moment. “You shall remain close to the ship and watch my personal dogs advance the First Order to its grandest spectacle. You will watch and learn what it is to be loyal.”

He paused and leaned forward. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, Master,” she said with a bow of her head.

Snoke was about to say more when there was a loud alarm blaring that ricocheted through the quarters. He dismissed her with a wave of his hand and disappeared from sight. Darth Ceria rose immediately and raced back to the bridge, skidding to a stop when she was met by a puce-coloured Hux.

“Those scum are attacking us!” he shouted at her.

“I’m supposed to only watch,” she said with adopted innocence, “what do you want me to do about it?”

That awful colour on his face became only worse. “Get out there and lead! Blow them from the sky while the ship gets into position!”

“Are you ordering me?” Darth Ceria asked in a soft tone as she stepped toward him. Hux’s eyes almost crossed in his rage.

“I am.”

She raised a hand, debated on choking him, then thought twice. No. This would work. Her disobedience would be on Hux’s head. This would give her time. Time to do some damage and absolve her sins. Time to find Ben Solo and blast him from the sky.

Because she didn’t doubt that Ben Solo was out there right now, helping lead such a stupidly reckless attack. He was a Solo and a Skywalker after all.

* * *

“Finn! Get with it!” Han roared from his place at the controls as the fleet headed their way dissolved into squadrons of TIEs and their Star Destroyers that were readying to blow the Resistance from Space. The Destroyers were ponderously slow but this new breed of TIEs was going to be a problem. They were designed to be faster and deadlier. They needed their gunners to work at full capacity and both Finn and Ben were busy doing fast repairs. 

At his side, Chewie roared his disapproval for going into battle like this with no real plan. 

“Come on, Chewie, we’ve done this a million times before,” Han said. “Plans are overrated.”

Chewie grumbled but didn’t contradict him.

“Ben! What’s going on with those convertors?” Han shouted into the engine hold.

“Just a second!”

“We don’t have a second!”

The ship gave a lurch. “Come on, baby, hold together,” Han whispered as they took a brutal hit in their shields from a Star Destroyer’s smaller guns.

“You guys alright in there?” Poe asked over their commlink as he sped past them in his fighter. They could make out BB8 whirring away in his secure spot behind Poe on his fighter.

“We’re just fine,” Han said, “how’re you?”

“Oh, you know. Battling the evil forces of darkness, trying not to get killed. Same old same, really.”

“Glad to hear it.” Han leaned to the side. “Ben!”

“Try it now!” his son shouted back at him and Han heard him moving through the hall to the gunner spot with Finn. Han punched the line and power flooded the ship with an extra boost.

“Good job, kid,” he whispered.

Satisfied, Ben glanced at Finn who looked ready to fight the first thing to come their way. The younger man looked so eager even Ben didn’t have the heart to dissuade him. He worked his jaw a few times and looked him up and down before shrugging. “Alright,” he said, “how’s your shooting?”

“Me?” Finn asked before bristling up a little. “Just fine. Trained at the Academy you know.”

“Is that a good thing? I’ve seen you guys shoot before,” Ben said dryly.

“Good thing, Big Deal,” Han shouted. “Ben, get him to the gunner and stop trying to be smart.”

“You don’t want me shooting?” Ben asked through the hall.

Han waved his hand up here. “I need you up here. This is going to take some fancy flying. We’ll trust Finn to protect us.”

Ben shrugged and gave Finn a friendly clap on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

“Wait, how do I…” Finn’s eyes had widened.

“Use the Force,” Ben said with a sneer that made Finn swallow. “Just kidding. You’ll figure it out. It’s an old system but it’s still packing a punch when you need it. Zero in on targets, let loose. Simple.”

“Simple. Right. Simple.” Finn shrugged. “I can do this. I can do this.”

He scurried down the ladder and Ben turned to climb into the cockpit, Chewie moving to a back seat to let him in the front beside Han.

“Are you taking this one or am I?” he asked his father as he hovered his hands near the controls. Han hesitated for a moment, glancing at him for a long time before Chewie rumbled they’d be blasted from the sky if he didn’t pay attention. Then the elder Solo nodded.

“You got this, kid, I trust you,” Han said. “You’re one of the best pilots I know.”

It didn’t escape his notice that his son actually blushed with pride and resolved to praise him a lot more in situations like this. 

“What’s the plan?” Ben asked as he took the controls and jerked the Falcon about in a spin. Finn and Chewie made matching shouts of confusion but the spiralling Falcon simply slipped between the lines of TIEs. He righted the ship and zipped along, weaving effortlessly through the space between First Order fighters. Behind him, X-wings flanked and shot down fighters as they went.

“We need to get on that ship and blow its weapon apart. That means we get inside.” Han grinned. “So, we charge in and force them to let us in. Like knocking on a door, right?”

“Charge in.” Ben sighed. “I knew you didn’t have a plan.”

“We’re Solos. Plans are for Skywalkers.”

Ben snorted. “I’m also a Skywalker.”

“You’ve got to think with your head sometimes and do the best you can,” Han explained. “Let’s get through these TIEs and we’ll worry about the rest of the plan as it comes.”

* * *

Poe whooped as he plunged ship-nose first into the alleyway created by the TIE fighters. The TIEs spiralled down after him but he banked upright and sped through them again, blowing several from the skies. He chanced looking left to the Star Destroyers still waiting for them. They were still moving slow towards their target as if the Resistance was no real threat. 

He intended on changing that.

“We’ve got to keep going, so everyone keep your eyes peeled for the big guns,” he warned his squad as he adjusted his controls. He tapped his commlink and heard the affirmatives coming through, 

“Roger that, Black Leader.”

“Roger.”

There was a chorus of replies and he settled into his seat a bit easier. Now he could focus fully on getting rid of as many TIEs as possible. “BB8, buddy, you ready back there?” he asked his droid as they zoomed between two TIEs and caused them to shoot at one another instead.

BB8 chirped and whirred.

“Yeah, I know. Big excitement but stay focussed. We got a battle to win.”

Another chirp.

“Yeah I know.”

More insistent chirping.

“Hey, language. What did I say about using those words? The Solos are here to help.”

BB8 made a whistle and Poe sighed.

“Look, the one isn’t that scary. I bet he’s like a big old puppy dog when you get to know him.” Poe flipped a few switches and his radar began to blip as he cruised between two TIEs circling Red One. “Now, let me focus, BB8.”

* * *

“General, there is a new sign on the radar at the outer limits of the system.” Kaydel zoomed in on the radar. “This ship, ma’am...it’s massive.”

Leia was quick to move to her side and she stared. “That’s no First Order ship,” she whispered. “Where did that come from?”

“Our radiation detectors are indicating a spike in radiation, General,” a technician said from the side. “Whatever is aboard that ship is ready to fire.”

“Get the Millenium Falcon link up and running,” she ordered.

* * *

Ben focussed totally on what he was doing, letting the rest of the world slip away. His father’s muttering, Chewie’s rumbles, Finn’s worried calls about what the hell he was supposed to do… all of it was gone. He was tunnel vision and focussed. He could almost feel the Force vibrating around him; it spoke of the lives lost and the bloodlust around him, both from the First Order and the Resistance. He couldn’t succumb to that. He wouldn’t.

Ben took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he flipped the consol about and set the Falcon spinning between TIE fighters.

“BEN!” Han shouted as he slammed into the opposite wall. Chewie grabbed hold of his father and held him steady.

“We just need to distract them,” Ben whispered. They could get to the bay, he knew they could. He just needed some time. Around him, X-wings were crashing and burning even as they were taking out row after row of TIE fighter. What the Resistance lacked in firepower, they made up for in utter determination. His mother had always said never to underestimate that and Ben had no intention of doubting her leadership.

He was about to make a leap into lightspeed to skip over a row of TIE fighters when he felt it.

The air dropped around him and he felt so cold. There was an empty space about him, as if the very vacuum of space had surrounded him. Ben felt so cold that his hands shook on the controls and he missed a beat. The Falcon banged into a TIE fighter wing, clipping it so that the smaller ship went spiralling into another ship, causing a chain effect until the Star Destroyer near them was bombarded with falling TIEs. Ben saw none of it nor heard his father speaking.

He felt the cold seeping around him.

“ _ Young Solo. Come to me and this doubt will go away. We would stop our attack if you came to us. Where you’ve always belonged.” _

The voice in his head, one he had ignored for so long, slithered in and out of his ears like an eel and he shook his head.

Then the cold relieved, but only just. This time the presence was one of hate and confusion, of pain, and he turned his head to see a modified TIE go zipping by him. It was stream-lined and delicate almost in comparison to the other TIEs. Until, that was, it opened fire upon a Red Leader and blew the Resistance X-wing from the sky. Ben swerved the Falcon and the TIE pivoted on a proverbial coin after him.

“Did you see that?” Poe shouted over the comm.

“Finn! Get moving and clear a path!” Han shouted just as his comm headset beeped. His eyes were steady on Ben as he answered the call. “Yeah?”

He was quiet for a minute. “Oh damn.” Ben spared him a look and Han’s lips pursed. “We’re on a tight countdown here, guys. Get moving.”

“Mom?” Ben asked as he flipped a switch and the Falcon responded immediately, bursting through the crowd of TIEs. 

“She said that the big ship has arrived. We need to get to it.”

“Hold on then. Finn, keep that TIE back. Don’t let it lock onto us.”

Finn was quick to do as much as he could. He had no real clue how to operate the modified gunner of the Falcon but he was learning fast. It seemed almost like one of those old simulators he’d been put on before being shoved down to janitorial duty. 

“Alright, you can do this,” Finn whispered to himself.

The screen began rapid beeping and he pressed the trigger. Instantly shots fired and struck a TIE fighter closest to the Falcon. It exploded into the vacuum and debris struck the Falcon.

“Whoo!” Finn cheered. “I got him! I got him!”

“Great, kid, don’t get cocky,” Han warned. “Ben, you keep flying. I’m gonna go to the other seat and help Finn out.”

“Be careful,” Ben said without breaking his concentration. Chewie and Han changed places and Ben swooped the Falcon down to avoid a line of TIEs. They were coming up to the line of Star Destroyers. Destroyers that hadn’t really moved yet. 

“What are you waiting for?” Ben whispered.

* * *

The modified TIE had been called Shriek for a reason and Darth Ceria both knew the limitations and the capabilities of her own ship. It would never hold up to a full fledged battle against a larger ship but it could move fast and deadly. She gunned down Resistance without another thought.

Until she felt it.

That pressure at the base of her skull. Someone was using the Force and using it to decimate the First Order.

No...not just one.

She shook her head and ignored it. The two flanking TIEs on either side of her split off to take care of a dog fight and she kept her focus on the Corellian freighter weaving in and out. It was moving erratically but it was still managing to do some damage.

It was almost as if the ship was deliberately being erratic.

She grit her teeth beneath her mask and pressed her levers forward so that the Shriek blazed through the sky toward the Millennium Falcon.

* * *

Ben felt her at his back. He knew it was her. It only made sense that she would be here, knee deep in battle. He sensed rebellion though. Someone had told her not to be here.

His thoughts broke away from her when he pivoted the Falcon, banked her upright, and then pressed the levers to drop her down. The engines cut out and the ship began to plummet down, leaving the gunners in position. 

“Open fire! We’ve got a clear shot!” he ordered.

Han and Finn opened fire simultaneously and Ben hoped their shots were true.

It worked. The four TIEs after them exploded as the blasts ripped through them. Chewie roared his approval “ _ Good job, little one!” _ but Ben was more concerned with the TIE that they hadn’t struck. 

That red lined modified TIE was still after them.

“We’re gonna have to…” he broke off as a shadow fell across the helm of the Falcon. Chewie looked up and yowled and Ben echoed with a “Kriff”.

The Contingency was a massive ship compared to any he had seen before. A dreadnought, Ben thought in a numb way. He could barely process the very scale of a ship that size. It moved slow, so slow it barely seemed to be moving, but Ben noticed it was working hard to move. As it hovered over them, more TIEs poured out of the hangars, dropping like bombs.

“Why aren’t they going closer to the base?” Ben whispered.

“ _ They only want to get into range,” _ Chewie argued.

“You’re right.” Ben leaned over and flipped a switch. “Dad, Finn, get ready to move fast. We need cover fire while that hangar bay is open.”

“Got it. Wait, what are you going to do?” Finn called out.

“Just hold on tight, Big Deal. We’re going for a ride,” Han answered.

Ben floored it and the Falcon leapt to his command, streaking by the TIEs pouring out of the hangar bay. The closer they came, the more that Ben realized where they were coming from. Of what those TIEs were protecting. It was a massive turret, housing...something...within its casing. As the Falcon sped through space, dodging and banking over enemies, Ben concentrated as his father and Finn covered him with gunfire.

They had almost made it when a blast came from below, sending the Falcon spinning wildly through the air. Chewie roared and Ben quickly moved up. “I know, I know!” he answered the Wookie’s scolding before slamming the lever up and fixing the gravity base. The Falcon zipped through the air as another blast just missed them.

“Where is that coming from!?!” Han shouted to Finn.

“Firepower underneath! It’s a TIE!” Finn answered. “I can’t lock on! They’re too fast!”

Ben slipped into a Force state, focusing on the problem instead of the arguing going on around him. He could almost feel his uncle’s admonishment.  _ “Focus on the moment” “Focus through the Force when you need it and when you don’t”. _

_ “Focus.” _

He slammed his hand on the lever once more and the Falcon sped nose first into the hangar bay below the gun turret, sending the ship spinning wildly in circles as it struggled with the force field about the ship. They’d been going so fast that nothing could have stopped them. The Falcon made a wheezing sound as it skidded along the metal grating and Ben saw only the black of space and the flames of downed Resistance fighters before his head struck the side of consol and knocked him out.


	12. The Belly of the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight and a decision that will change everything for Ben Solo

His eyes popped open and his lashes fluttered a few times as the world spun around him fast. With his head throbbing, Ben exhaled through his nose and pushed up to his hands and knees. He shook his head back and forth, which only made the pain worse. Through slow motion, he thought he saw his father coming into the cockpit of the Falcon, checking on an equally dizzy Chewie, before coming toward him. Ben’s ears kept ringing so loud that he lowered his head and coughed up a mouthful of blood onto the metal grate.

“Ben!” Han’s voice seemed to be far away even as he grabbed Ben by the shoulders and gave him a shake. His voice remained at the end of some great tunnel and Ben struggled to focus on him. “You with me?”

Ben stared at him curiously, trying to hear around the ringing in his ears.

“Ben!” Suddenly with a whoosh his hearing cleared and he heard his father again, only this time a little too loud. “Snap out of it!”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Ben said and he reached up to take his father’s hand. The comforting calluses on Han’s palm was familiar, and his strength steadied Ben when he might have fallen. “How hard did we hit?”

“Hard enough. Falcon took a blast behind but the shields gave us some protection.” Han nodded and reached up to give him a clap on the arm. “You did some great flying, kid.”

“Thanks. I think.”

Chewie rumbled his agreement. Han checked him quickly but the Wookie was only a little rattled, not injured. Together Ben and Han staggered out of the slanted cockpit to the hall where Finn was waiting, arms full of charges. The elder Solo nodded to the younger man. “You ready, Big Deal?” he asked.

“Ready.” Finn looked around. “It’s funny, I thought that there’d be this line of soldiers flying in to destroy us or something like that.”

“Don’t wish for it,” Han warned.

As if in response, they heard a loud whirring noise of a ship entering the hangar bay. Ben and Han went to the Falcon’s ramp, slapping the button to lower it, and poked their heads out in unison. The hangar roared in warning as the boundary line was crossed and the doors swung shut as a ship entered the hangar. The red and black ship that had landed was a modified TIE with a bird insignia of some class across its panel. Ben retreated a step. 

“Sith,” he whispered. “Dad, that’s the ship that followed us.”

Han nodded. “We need to get moving. Finn! Chewie!”

“ _ Right here,”  _ Chewie rumbled, unslinging his bowcaster.

The men and the Wookie raced down the ramp and made it for the stacked units that could provide decent cover. It gave them just enough cover that they could stay hidden in the shadows. Han and Chewie pressed behind one and Ben and Finn took the other across the way. Han hissed out “Damn” and Ben looked over at him to realize the problem. They were pressed against a wall and between them and the doors that led into the engine room were blocked.

By the modified TIE.

The TIE’s cockpit unravelled itself with clicks and beeps, the top part of its protective shell swinging open. Though he knew he should be looking for an escape route, Ben couldn’t look away as a slim figure in black robes leapt out gracefully. She shook her head several times and reached up to remove her protective helmet, sending a spill of dark hair down her back. She reached up to her mouth to fix her mask and then tossed the helmet to the floor with a solid ‘thunk’.

“Oh,  _ kriff _ ,” Finn whispered. “It’s her.”

“You know her?” Ben asked, leaning around Finn. He unholstered his blaster and began to take deep, steadying breaths. “Who is she, really?”

Han looked at both of them expectantly and Finn lowered his voice a little more as the woman walked about the Falcon, running her eyes across it.

“She’s...she came onto the ship I was assigned to a year back, when I came out of training. All I know is she scares the hell out of Hux and the silver trooper, Phasma. She reports only to Supreme Leader Snoke.” Finn met Ben’s eyes. “Rumour is she’s a Jedi.”

“Jedi aren’t like that,” Ben corrected. “She’s Sith.”

“Sith?” Finn repeated. “So...evil Jedi, right?”

“In the most basic way….sure.” Ben leaned out. “We won’t be able to get around her without a distraction.”

“Chewie and I…” Han began but Ben shook his head.

“No. You guys know how to blow a weapon, an engine, better than anyone. Finn and I will distract her.”

“How’re you going to do that?” Han asked. 

The woman turned around, eyes on the ceiling. Ben knew it was only a matter of time before she sensed them.

“We’re going to draw her out.”

“Yeah!” Finn agreed after a moment’s hesitation and he reached down to his belt. “This’ll help.” They all looked as he removed the Skywalker lightsaber and held it aloft. “Always wanted to sword fight,” Finn said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“You might regret saying that,” Ben said but he made no move to take the saber. “Finn goes left, I go right. If we’re lucky, we can draw her to the upper levels.”

“She that dangerous?” Finn whispered. “I mean, she’s one person.”

Ben shot him a look that spoke volumes. 

“Right. Dangerous.” Finn nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Ben glanced at Han. “One hour?”

“Be careful,” Han said. “One hour.”

The two younger men went around the storage to another unit, separating around the piles of work. Han watched his son for a moment. 

“Proud of the kid but, Chewie, we better get this done. No way I’m losing my son to this war, you hear me?” he asked the Wookie who rumbled his agreement. There was no way either of them was going to lose their family to the First Order.

* * *

Darth Ceria took a deep breath. Her ribs ached from a few barrel rolls her ship had taken to avoid being blasted into another lane. It was possible something had been broken but she knew better than to acknowledge the pain. For now she stared at the Millenium Falcon with an odd feeling of hate and longing, and wondered where the crew had gotten to. The ship was empty but she could still feel them around. Whatever their plan was, they hadn’t gotten that far.

She was turning around when she saw a flicker at the corner of her vision. FN-2187 stood, dressed like a smuggler in a worn leather jacket, and he looked defiant. He brandished something in his right hand and wiggled it at her. A lightsaber, she realized, and her blood began to throb eagerly with the anticipation. She hadn’t had a good fight in hours. Not that she thought he’d give her one.

“Looking for me?” he asked.

She widened her stance a little. “No.”

That threw him off and he almost looked insulted. But Darth Ceria had split her focus and she felt the Force moving about her. There was a singing sound in the air, a warning, and she smiled. Lifting a hand, she stopped the blaster bolt mid-air and then shifted her hand, letting it whizz off to strike harmlessly off the wall. She turned her head and stared at the young man near the stairwell. Ben Solo stared back at her, blaster still lifted. 

“I was looking for him,” she said.

“Package deal, sweetheart, you get both of us,” Ben answered. He grinned that obnoxious grin at her that made her want to clock him one.

“That won’t be a problem,” she answered, trying to sound bored by his confidence.

She lifted her hand toward Finn and felt for the Force to choke him dead. But there was something...resistant about him. A wall. Darth Ceria lowered her hand and reached for her saberstaff, clicking it on one side at a time. She whirled it about and headed for Finn. She knew which man would prove easier to defeat and she wasn’t about to underestimate Ben Solo again. She’d learned her lesson.

Finn saw her coming and swallowed. The fact that she didn’t move any faster than her sedate, calm walk, was more intimidating than if she had bolted for him. He caught Ben’s eye across the room and nodded once before turning and taking off for the opposite stairwell.

* * *

Han and Chewie moved quick and careful through the hall of the cojoined weapon and engine room. It was sweltering in this room, as if they were standing beside a star itself, and Han gave the windowed walls a wide berth. He wasn’t sure why he did it. The walls were built to protect anyone walking in the interior rooms but he didn’t trust First Order infrastructure any more than he had trusted the Empire. Chewie at his side was a welcome protection and they stopped from hall to hall to be sure they were going the right way.

“Why is this never easy to find?” Han asked. “We need to blow the support system completely.”

Chewie rumbled.

“And I do know where I’m going, don’t start with me,” Han warned. “First Order ships are just like old Imperial ships, you know.”

That earned him a wry look.

“ _ I’m worried too,”  _ Chewie warned. “ _ But you know...little one can take care of himself.” _

“I know he can,” Han said as they approached a locked door. “But he’s not gone up against a Sith before. Not like this. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“ _ Trust him.” _

_ “ _ I am trusting him. But I worry about the kid.” Han sighed and unholstered his blaster. “All right, you ready?”

Chewie growled and readied his bowcaster.

Han slammed his hand on the door button and took cover with Chewie as the doors slid open to reveal a room of technicians and troopers.

* * *

Ben ran after the duelling pair, slinging along the rails until he reached the second level. He was out of breath by the time he got there. Overhead were more levels, impossibly high and leading into the belly of the Contingency, but he did his best not to focus on that. Finn had run off, leading the Sith into the stairs. Luckily the stairwells were wide enough only for one person to pass through so she couldn’t do much more than follow him. Follow him at that slow, measuring pace that was quickly becoming intimidating. As he waited for them to reach him, Ben pulled his blaster and hoped to get a good shot in. They just had to distract her long enough for his father and Chewie to set the charges.

If he was lucky, the shot would be true and the walking nightmares this woman had brought into his life would stop. 

Ben flicked the safety off of his blaster and quickly swung up and around to land on the grated catwalk. It gave him a birds-eye view of the entire area.

“Ben!” Finn shouted and he turned in his crouch and he saw that Finn had ignited the lightsaber. Something had happened...Finn was actually trying to fight off the Sith as she continued to walk toward him. He was doing surprisingly well warding off the double bladed lightsaber coming for him but Darth Ceria moved so fast that her hands were a blur. Ben felt her exaltation at battle, her thrill of the moment, her bloodlust, and he knew she’d destroy Finn just for the pleasure of it. Finn just didn’t realize it. Ben swung down and steadied his arm. There was no clear shot though and he ground his teeth together, struggling to hold onto the precious threads of his patience.

Finn fought hard. He pivoted and kept to parrying the thrusts coming his way. His lack of experience showed as he stayed on the defensive the entire time, struggling to hold her off. Her mask made a hideous facade to face like this and Finn cringed as he met her eyes when she slammed the top blade down atop his lightsaber. The meeting blades made a brilliant violet hue about them, so hot that it felt like it was scalding Finn just to hold her off. She peered closely at him through the light.

“You have some potential,” she said in a conversational tone, as if they weren’t fighting at all but merely training. “You could be trained. I could train you.”

“Rather die first,” Finn said as he shoved back at her. She went back a few steps and pirouetted away from his blade when he finally swung at her. It was done so easily that Finn’s fraying nerves began to crumble. He didn’t know what to do, what to expect.

It was sudden when he realized that she was playing with him.

“That can be arranged,” she said.

Then she began to move impossibly fast. The twin blades swung around her in brilliant, awe-inspiring arcs, and she moved with elegance as she fought through his defenses. Finn shouted and swung back at her, trying to use his strength against her slighter form. It worked for a moment. She backed up several steps, and Finn came closer and closer. Her eyes stayed on his in an unnerving stare but Finn ignored it as best he could. He swung left, then right, and ducked down to avoid her top blade when she parried. He was just swinging for her feet when she swung with the bottom blade. It shoved his blade to the ground and he yelped as hot sparks sprang up and swarmed his eyes. He shoved his lightsaber forward, hoping to stab her, but hse was no longer there.

Darth Ceria pivoted around him and swung out. It caught Finn from the top of his shoulder blade and raked along the length of his spine. He didn’t have time to scream when she swung again and caught him on the side next, over his newly closed wound she had given him before.  _ Death by a thousand cuts, _ came to Finn’s mind. She was going to slice him apart. Slice him apart and he couldn’t even scream.

“Finn!”

At Ben’s shout of warning, Darth Ceria turned but she was too late. Ben shot first and she caught a blaster bolt just above her hip. She screamed and went down to a knee, heaving for breath beside Finn as she clutched her side. Blood dripped between them in a pool but it was their mixing blood. Finn caught her eye just before Ben grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up. The pain radiated through the air between both of them as he helped him by slinging Finn’s arm about his shoulders.

“Stay with me, Finn,” Ben warned. He went for his commlink as they retreated down the catwalk towards the stairwell. 

“Hurts,” Finn whispered. “I think I’m gonna pass out, Ben.”

“Stay awake, I can’t carry you,” Ben warned, looking over his shoulder. Darth Ceria hadn’t moved yet but he saw her hand curling about her lightsaber hilt. Ben popped the comm up and held it to his mouth. “Dad? Dad, you there?”

* * *

Han stared at the bodies of the stormtroopers while Chewie held the technicians at bay. They’d set up a series of sixteen charges against the struts supporting the overhead weapon and engine room, where the sound of something churning was getting louder and louder. The technicians had admitted it would be fully charged within minutes to explode across the system, to destroy all of it, and they were supposed to enter the codes in.

“You’re all gonna wanna run in a few minutes,” Han said to them as he set the final charge and armed it. “I’d give you ten.”

Chewie snuffed the air. “ _ Letting them go?” _

“Yeah, I’m not a fan either.” 

Han turned his back as his comm beeped at him. He wondered… “ _ Dad? Dad?” _

“Ben?” Han quickly lifted it up. “What’s wrong?”

_ “We got her to the second level but she’s after us. She cut up Finn real bad. I need Chewie.” _

“Damn kids,” Han said, trying for levity. “We’ll be right there.”

“ _ Hurry.” _

There was something Han had never heard before in his son’s voice. Desperation. Fear. Ben always held his emotions close to the surface; he could be volatile in a desperate situation. But Han had never really heard him be scared before. It was terrifying for the elder Solo. He turned away from the comm and looked up across the room to where an agitated Chewie was staring at him. Han nodded.

“Chewie? Set the charges! We need to get gone!”

* * *

They were headed downstairs when Ben felt it. Felt her intention to follow them and end this now. He couldn’t let her do that. He needed to put a stop to this. He just had to keep this Darth Ceria from blocking their escape and it would be up to his dad to get the Falcon in order to fly. He glanced at the man he was supporting and shifted his arm off of his shoulders.

“Ben?” Finn asked as they stopped at the bottom of the stairwell. “What are you doing?”

Clearly Finn had felt his intention and Ben stared into his face. “I need to keep her from getting to the Falcon, from figuring out what we’ve done.”

Finn grabbed his hand, his pain making him holding onto the bigger man tightly. “She’s gonna kill you.”

“She’s gonna try,” Ben said. He pressed the commlink into Finn’s hand. “Tell my dad where you are. I’ll come in ten minutes. I just got to lead her off.”

“Ben!” Finn shouted as Ben set him down.

“Tell my dad I’ll be careful,” he said before he turned and raced back up the stairs. 

Finn watched his shadow disappear and swallowed, fighting the unconsciousness threatening him. The pain was so terrible, like molten lava had completely flayed his back open. But the only thought he had as he clutched the lightsaber close was, “Oh, your Dad is gonna kill me if you get hurt.”


	13. Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben faces Darth Ceria and the consequences are dire.

Poe wove between TIE fighters, letting his instincts guide him. Leia had encouraged that particular habit of his, said it was a good sign with a secretive smile, and Poe hadn’t questioned her. As he blasted a TIE to pieces, sending it spiralling into the nose of a Star Destroyer, Poe looked out his window at the  _ Contingency _ . The massive dreadnought had come out of the dark space slow and despite their numerous attacks nothing could penetrate it or so it seemed. Poe had watched the Millenium Falcon go crashing into the hangar bay at the base of the ship and it had been too long since he had seen it since. They must be doing as planned but the lack of communication put Poe more on edge.

They could only distract the First Order for so long. 

“Come on, come on, Solos,” he muttered.

“ _ Dameron _ ,” Leia’s voice came through the commlink. “ _ Any sign of the Millenium Falcon yet?” _

“No, General. I will --- oh no you don’t---” he blasted another TIE from space as it tried to chase down Black 5 “-- I mean, I’ve been hoping to hear from them but I think that massive ship is blocking signals. I haven’t heard from anyone. I hope they’re okay.”

There was a moment’s hesitation. “ _ So do I, Poe, so do I.” _

* * *

Leia sighed and held onto the edge of the table as she watched the radar. It was dated technology but it still worked well enough. It was showing which ship had gone down and which were still flying. They hadn’t lost that many and that should have given her some comfort. Only it didn’t. It made her more nervous. The fact that the massive dreadnought was still coming forward, slowly, gave her an uneasy feeling. The First Order didn’t think they had anything to fear from the Resistance. They were being  _ toyed _ with.

Snoke’s master plan, she supposed. 

“Han, keep Ben safe,” she whispered to her husband. Sometimes she wished Han was just a little more Force Sensitive. It would have made this less...less…lonely.

Without a thought, she reached out to Ben next but she felt his distraction. He was doing something...something that he couldn’t be distracted from. His Force sensitivity spiked at her tentative touch but then it was gone. Leia removed her presence so not to cause trouble and turned her attention to the map of the stars that the Resistance always kept an eye on. Just in case.

As her eyes landed upon one system, a tiny one that no one ever noticed, she stretched out her awareness for the one connection she had never doubted. The warm glow of oneness, of shared grief and of shared joy, suffused her. She never noticed how the rest of the Resistance glanced at her but said nothing to the look of utter serenity upon her face.

“Luke,” she whispered as she concentrated, “we need you. I need you. Please.”

In the cold void left by her twin’s absence, she felt its icy grip a bit more than she would have liked. Leia stared at the system, a little known one that she had only input herself. A system everyone had ignored for years as just a blip on the map. The Unknown Regions had always remained unknowable for a reason. This tiny section on the map should have been nothing.

It was nothing except for the presence it held within its shadowy reaches.

Then Leia felt it. She reached out with a hand, not seeing anything about her, and whispered, “Luke.”

From the wide expanse of space between them, she felt her brother reach back out and touch her hand with his.

“ _ Leia.” _

* * *

Ben went crashing into the railing in his attempt to avoid the well-aimed kick that came his way. His larger bulk bent the railing and he quickly scuttled to his feet to avoid the lightsaber making its shrieking descent towards his head. Ben dodged the coming blow and took a slap to his cheek for his trouble. It made his head roll to the side and he worked his jaw. Darth Ceria remained several feet away as he backed up.

“You don’t fight fair,” he said. “You’re scrappy though, I give you that. Remind me of those scavengers on Jakku. All bite, no bark.”

Her face clouded at the mention of Jakku. “I am nothing like them.”

“No?” Ben wiped the blood from his lip. “Maybe not.”

She hissed and swung her lightsaber toward him, pointing it toward his heart. “This isn’t even a challenge,” she said in that accented voice that made him curious about her upbringing. She spoke Basic but where from he couldn’t be sure. The accent pricked at some memory, one dream he had had once, but he ignored it. Focus, Ben, he told himself, Luke always said you lacked focus.

“I think I’m insulted,” he said as he swayed left and right, looking for an opening.

“You should be.” She swung her saber and he ducked, rolling through the opening she had provided to land behind her. He leapt for the overhead grate and swung with his arms. His feet caught her in the middle of her back and he kicked out hard, sending her to her chest. She chuffed as she landed, just barely managing to disengage her lightsaber before she burned herself.

Ben scrambled up the grating to the next platform and she watched from her knees. Her eyes were narrowed, thoughtful. “Impressive,” she said.

Ben grinned down at her. “Thanks.”

Darth Ceria rolled her eyes. “You’re not like a Jedi at all.”

“I’m not a Jedi.”

“No?” She looked up at him thoughtfully before getting to her feet. “You don’t have the discipline to be a Jedi. There’s more though, isn’t there. I can feel it in you. The conflict.”

Ben frowned. “No conflict here. You let me go and we’re conflict-free, far as I’m concerned.” 

“No, it’s there.” Her hood remained shadowing much of her face save for her eyes, which seemed to glimmer. She continued to walk beneath the grating and Ben mirrored her steps, not liking how calmly she was doing this. “I can...you don’t know where you belong. The Dark side, the Light side. I can sense your desires, Ben Solo. You touch the Dark as much as you do the Light.”

“I really don’t,” he said, backing up as he kept his attention on her. She stopped just beneath him, her mask hissing and sputtering. 

“I can teach you the Dark. My master could teach you,” she offered and she held out her hand. “Otherwise…”

“I could do without Snoke in my head.”

She grinned. He could see the way her cheeks moved beneath the mask. “Who said anything about Snoke?”

Ben stared at her and was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize the move she was making. Her lightsaber ignited and she spun it in a quick arc, faster than he could react. It burned into the grating and she twirled, dragging the lightsaber, so that it carved a spot out of the grate. Ben went flying down and landed hard on his face, body half-slumped across the grating. Darth Ceria kicked out and caught him in the stomach, sending him over the edge. As he crashed down, hitting ledge after ledge, she leapt like a gazelle after him into the dark belly of the  _ Contingency _ .

* * *

“Here he is!” Han said, “Chewie, grab his shoulder.”

“My back,” Finn whispered. “She got my back.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Big Deal,” Han said. “Chewie, you good?”

The Wookie roared and together they hoisted Finn up. Something clattered to the ground, slipping from Finn’s desperate grasp, but Han ignored it. He had bigger things to worry about right now. The charges were still bleeping, Han could hear the warning from Chewie’s detonator, and he knew they’d have to move fast. Finn muttered feverishly about Ben shooting someone before he began rambling about the Force and Han shook his head. The kid wasn’t making much sense. 

“Chewie, let’s get him to the ship then we’re going after Ben.” Han and the Wookie carried Finn down the steps and into the hangar bay. Despite the alarms blaring, they were still pretty safe. “Think she’ll run okay?”

“ _ Ben landed her hard but she’ll go,”  _ Chewie replied as they hurried up the ramp to the medbay. They deposited Finn onto the bed and Han rolled the younger man to his side. 

“Oh, kriff it,” he whispered as he saw the deep wound that laced from Finn’s shoulder to the small of his back. It was a devastating wound, worse than any that Han had seen before, and that Finn was still alive was a miracle. 

“Think he’ll last?” Han asked before shaking his head. “We’ll get him hooked up to a mainline and then go after Ben. We still got some time?”

Chewie nodded as he reached for an oxygen unit.

“Alright. Get that on him then we’re going to find Ben. He’s going to need us this time,” Han ordered. He put his palm flat on Finn’s forehead to feel how feverish he had become. “Hold on, kid.”

He wasn’t sure who he spoke to at that moment, the hurting man beside him or his son.

* * *

Ben came to after crashing down several levels to another platform. It teetered dangerously, the grating unstable under his weight, and he groaned as he pushed up. His side had taken the brunt of it but he was sure he could escape if he tried. He was just getting to his feet when he was slammed down by a fist crunching into his face. It sent stars across his vision and he groaned.

Then slim fingers dug deep into his dark hair and hauled him to his knees. Dizzy and disorientated, Ben swayed a little and managed to focus his eyes on the dark-robed figure before him. For one moment it wasn’t Darth Ceria before him. It was an elderly man, cackling in amusement at how wrecked Ben was. Then the vision was gone and once again it was a woman, younger than him, who held a part of her saberstaff to his throat.

The lightsaber she held cast a red glow across her thin features.

“You’re not a challenge,” she said and he could hear her disappointment. “I should just take what I want from you and go.” Her eyes locked on his. “You know, don’t you? Where Luke Skywalker is?”

“No.”

She grinned. “But for that information, for your life, your uncle would return.”

Ben cleared his throat. “You might not really know my uncle then.”

“Oh, I think I do know him. She has the same weakness.”

Ben stared into her eyes, seeing edges of green within the darkness, and swallowed as the lightsaber came closer to his jugular. Her eyes bore into his and she held him still with the other hand, her fingers twisting deeper into his hair to wrench his neck to the side. Darth Ceria leaned in close to his ear. 

“You know I can take whatever I want,” she whispered and it sent a chill down his spine. Ben closed his eyes to deny her the probing she was already attempting to do. But between them...there were cracks in his armour. He _couldn’t_ _keep her out_ , not now though he was desperate to. She delved deep into his mind as she held him immobile. As tall and broad as he was, Ben felt powerless as the weight of her Force powers sunk into him. He looked into her face and saw a far away look in her eyes.

“You’re….afraid. But not of me. Of disappointing  _ him.” _ She shook her head. “No, show me your mother. She knows where Luke Skywalker is. Show me how to break her...and then I will kill you.”

The lightsaber came close to his throat again but Ben barely felt its heat.

Darth Ceria’s eyes flicked away from him. “Your father...perhaps I should go into his weak mind? I’m sure it would be easy.”

She was threatening his mother, his father.  _ His family. _

Ben began to push back with every ounce of skill he remembered. This had been one of Luke’s chief lessons.  _ Never let anyone within your head that you didn’t want there _ . Especially a Dark user. His Force powers wrapped about hers and again he felt that instantaneous, spring-catch connection he had felt with her before. Suddenly he felt  _ her _ as acutely as the fingers in his hair, as if she had sunk deep into his soul. He felt her surrounding him and rather than rejecting her he  _ absorbed  _ her and so took on parts of her as if they were parts of him.

Suddenly he was sure he knew her as well as she seemed to know him.

“You,” he answered, “are afraid.”

Her eyes snapped to his face.

“You’re…” Ben tilted his head within her grasp, “...so lonely. So afraid.”

Flashes of panic drifted across her mind to his and Ben forced his way deeper to try to repel her from getting to the information she wanted about the Resistance, about his mother. 

_ In her head he saw a small child curled up within the shadows of a dark room, clutching a small doll to her chest. The doll was her only comfort. Her eyes were on the wall across from her, to the marks that lined the metal in deep scratches. Counting scratches. They’d come for her one day and save her. _

_ Save her? From what? _

“You were waiting for them,” Ben whispered and he saw panic in her eyes now. “You wished they’d save you. You counted the days and they never came back. They never saved you.”

Darth Ceria’s face contorted in her rage. “Get out of my head!” she screamed and she backhanded him into the railing as she rose to her feet.

Ben coughed up blood but before he could move she used the Force to pull him back within her grip. The lightsaber once again came agonizingly close to his throat and he knew she was about to strike.

Only she hesitated, the wild look in her eyes no longer focussed on him but some place far away. She wasn’t even seeing him. Darth Ceria had him on his knees and hadn’t cut into him yet. A good sign. He might survive this. He watched her distraction bleed into her anger and he knew he could take advantage of her. He’d never underestimated her but she had underestimated his will to survive this.

“You don’t want to kill me,” he said. Darth Ceria gave him an aghast look and reached between them to grip his collar, hauling him up. Her eyes darted over his face and then she made a soft scoffing noise within the depths of her mask.

Her face tightened and her eyes narrowed. “Oh, I do.”

Ben’s fingers twitched at his side and he sent the Force careening through the deep chasm they’d climbed in their furious battle to get her away from the Falcon and where the charges were set. The Force responded to him with a rush, as if it was rejoicing that once again he was using it. Ben let the Force suffuse him in a way he hadn’t allowed in years and he  _ reached _ . 

In a stairwell, the forgotten lightsaber of Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber began to rock.

With a sound of pure hate and pain, Darth Ceria let his collar go and ignited both sides of her saberstaff again. With a twirl, she raised her blades to strike and brought the backside down fast towards his heart. 

Only for it to be blocked by a blinding blue light.

She stared in surprise as humming lightsaber blades clashed. Darth Ceria dropped her guard a little in her shock and Ben was quick to roll away from her, getting to his feet. She stared at the lightsaber in his hand.

“That...that blade,” she whispered. “I’ve dreamt of that blade.”

Ben twirled it back and quickly took the traditional stance his uncle had taught him. He took a few deep, calming breaths, and closed his eyes. Darth Ceria reached out and traced one of her blades against his, sending violet sparks into the air. Then Ben opened his eyes.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he said. “But I will.”

“You’re only prolonging your own death, you delusional moron,” she warned. 

“I’m a Solo. It’s what we do,” he said with a grin and then he attacked.

* * *

Leia gasped and pulled away from her connection with Luke, sensing her brother’s confusion. But she knew what she had felt. Ben was in danger, more than he knew. She reached for the commlink to the Falcon and snapped an order at a commander to patch her through.

“What is it, princess?” Han asked, sounding out of breath. “Kind of busy here.”

“Ben’s in danger.”

“Yeah? I knew that.”

Leia ground her teeth together. “Help him. He’s...Han, if we don’t…”

“I know, princess, I know. I’ll protect him. Stay on the line. Chewie and I will go get him then we’ll be back home, fast as we can. We gotta blow this ship to space first though,” Han warned.

“Hurry,” Leia ordered before clicking the commlink off again. She put her hand to her face and felt how cold her skin had become. “Oh, Force, hurry, Han.”

* * *

Ben was rusty.

He fought well though and it sent Darth Ceria on the offensive to try to block his blows. Her eyes showed her surprise though her emotions gave nothing away but anger. She tried to let the Dark side fuel her but it felt...stifled next to his command of the Light. She had thought this to be an easy kill. It should have been an easy kill but she couldn’t resist toying with him a little. He unnerved her and her instinct had been to make him pay for it.

Her grandfather would be so ashamed of her. 

Ben felt her conflict grow as they fought across the grating. He ducked a swipe of her blades and kicked her in the butt, sending her hollering to her knees. She growled and swung at him, causing him to jump backward to avoid getting sliced clean through. The entire time they fought, him on the defensive, he felt her growing unease. She hadn’t expected him to fight back like this.

He dodged her blow and their lightsabers locked together, casting a violent hue about them that was a deepening purple. Ben’s eyes lit up within the sparks and he met her gaze steadily. She glared at him and shoved back but he held her off.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he said on instinct and he was surprised to realize how true that was. He didn’t want to kill her.

“Then you’ll die,” she snarled and she slammed her knee into his stomach. Ben went back, surprised and out of breath, and Darth Ceria twirled her blades with one hand. Her other hand slammed into his jaw and snapped his head upright. Then her blades careened upward too fast for him to block and caught him on the face. It snarled as it sliced deep from the top of his brow, down his jaw, and into the meat of his shoulder.

Ben howled in pain and fell back away from her, clutching his face. He swung out with his other hand and caught her in the side with his own lightsaber. Darth Ceria shrieked again and clutched at the wound that now was opposite the blaster wound on the other side. She scrambled to her feet as his lightsaber hissed closed and held her side with her free hand, stumbling toward him.

The slice of her lightsaber against his face burned. Ben went down to his knees, cradling his cheek, and feeling hot blood and ruined flesh above and below his eye. He cried out at the pain and shook with the effort not to faint as agony ripped through him. Darth Ceria, panting for breath, hovered over him, twirling her blades slowly as she advanced.

“This ends here,” she hissed, her mask letting Ben hear every bit of pain in her voice. She was on the point of collapse too.

Ben watched her come closer and closer, twirling her blades. She hesitated for just a moment but he couldn’t block her. He felt as if all his energy had been zapped and the pain in his face and shoulder was so terrible that the agony threatened to knock him out again.

Darth Ceria hissed and raised the red lightsaber high over her head.

“Ben, no!” Han’s voice tore through the air and Darth Ceria whipped about, staring at the man trying to run across the platform toward them, a Wookie at his side. There was still so much distance, he’d never save his precious son in time. She sneered and turned back to Ben, only to find him with a blaster pointed at her. 

She stared. She’d forgotten all about that blaster.

He couldn’t see, Ben realized as blood dripped into his vision, and he had to trust his instincts. The Force moved around him and he closed his eyes. He had to trust the Force. He squeezed the trigger and it fired as he knew it would, careening toward the Sith.

Darth Ceria lifted her hand and carelessly gestured, flinging the bolt away. It shrieked through the air.

Into Han Solo’s chest and through the other side.

The very air around Ben seemed to grow colder and his eyes snapped open. What he saw made his entire world fall apart.

“Dad!” Ben screamed. “No!”

Chewie caught his father as Han fell to his knees, stunned by the pain of it. Darth Ceria stared at them, bewildered by the sudden conflict she felt. By the grief that consumed her. Only...it wasn’t her grief, her pain. It was Ben Solo’s.

Ben ignored the pain and shoved by her, not caring that he was exposing his back to her. “Dad!” he shouted. The distance between them was so great that he’d never make it. In a struggle to be rational, Ben fought his urge to panic. He held his injured shoulder and looked around. “Chewie! Get him aboard the Falcon! Try to save him!”

The Wookie roared at him and picked Han up in his furry arms, the man limp and clawing at him at times as if to stave off the pain.

“Dad!” Ben repeated in a softer voice. A broken voice that trembled like a child’s.

Then he looked over his shoulder at the Sith who waited for him. She twirled her blades in an absent way. Their eyes locked and he saw her conflict.

He no longer cared about her conflict. Ben only cared about his own pain, his rage.

With his thumb, he triggered the lightsaber and it shone to life.

* * *

Leia gasped and clutched at the edge of the table again. “Han,” she whispered. 

She could feel him slipping away from her and this time the permanence of it made tears of pain creep up into her eyes. Han was leaving her. Her visions of the future were coming true. She would lose dearly in her quest to rid the galaxy of the First Order. She’d lose her dearest love.

Then she felt the other love of her life and the pain he was going through. The agony and anger she felt across the space between them felt so vivid.

“Ben,” she whispered, “Ben, don’t do this. Don’t leave me too.”

* * *

It was surprising when he suddenly turned his fury upon her. Even with his devastating injuries, Ben managed to ignore the pain and attack her with a rage that was as incredible as it was terrifying. Darth Ceria backed away from each blow and tried to find her way to strike back. But every time she did, he would simply beat her down. Though his skills should have been rusty, he seemed to flow with a superior strength of will and body that she hadn’t expected. It was when he forced her to her knees that she realized what it was.

He was coursing with the Dark Side of the Force and against her own it banked up like waves upon a shore and tumbled her over.

She hissed in pain when with a stroke of his blue saber he forced her to back and sent her saberstaff skimming across the grate. It tumbled down the shaft, leaving her defenseless. 

Ben saw nothing about his surroundings. He didn’t see who he attacked and he didn’t feel anything but a consuming grief and pain. The vision of his father with a hole in his chest, of the blood and the pain he felt from his father, clung to him like a parasite. Infected his mind. He struck at his foe over and over again, desperate to make whoever hurt him pay for what they had done.

She had fallen down beneath him, defenseless, and he raised his blade to strike, hearing its comforting hum above him. 

“ _ Good,”  _ a silken voice whispered to him. “ _ Your hate has made you powerful. So powerful you can defeat the Heir. Kill her. Take her place and never feel such pain again.” _

The blade started to fall at a twist of his wrist and he saw a flash of fear in her eyes.

“ _ Ben?” _

His hand stopped mid-stroke and he stared at Darth Ceria as the voice tugged at him.

“ _ Ben?”  _ His mother’s voice, soft and clear. “ _ Ben, come back to me. I can’t lose you both.” _

_ “Ben, she needs to live,”  _ said another older voice. “ _ Come back to the Light, Ben.” _

The red haze before his eyes cleared. His mother...if he did this….

“ _ No!”  _ The gnarled, oily voice in his head shrieked as Ben lowered his saber and stared at Darth Ceria. She was heaving for breath, bloodied from the wound he had given her on the arm and the ones above her hips, and he could feel her anger. But despite that anger, it was her fear that he noticed.

For a moment, he could see a frightened girl beneath the facade of the Sith.

He depressed the button on the Skywalker lightsaber, removing the brilliant blue light from their dark surroundings. She stared at him, propped on her elbows, and he could feel her confusion.

“Do it!” she said with a snarl, baring her throat.

But Ben only backed up a step. He looked at the lightsaber in his hand, then down at her, and shook his head.

“No,” he whispered. Though everything warned him that to turn his back on a Sith was dangerous, Ben left her lying there, bleeding and broken on the grate. He picked up his father’s blaster and holstered it in his own empty hip holster before carrying on to where the Falcon waited. He ventured one last look at Darth Ceria as he limped away.

She was struggling to get to her feet, clutching at her injured side with her bleeding arm, staring at him from a face borne of a confused ferocity.

“You’ll regret this,” she warned. “I will never stop hunting you.”

His heart hurt too much for a cheeky reply. He simply stared at her before turning away and disappearing down the stairwell, leaving her behind.

* * *

Poe turned on the comm to patch through to the Falcon. “Solo! Come in! We ready to blow this?”

There was a long silence but eventually, there was a click. “We’re ready,” answered Ben Solo in a hollow voice. “Twenty seconds to detonation.”


	14. The Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes grief is too devastating to face...

The Falcon swooped out of the hangar with a loud clatter and Darth Ceria watched it from her safe place behind the crates. Her injuries made moving fast at all an impossibility. The wounds deep in her sides were beginning to fester and she wheezed for breath while walking one slow step after another. She had to reach the Shriek. She could hear the beeping in the next room and instinctively she knew what it meant. Her legs gave out and soon she had to crawl limply toward the Shriek, dragging herself up the sides. In her ship she had bacta spray, she had medical supplies. But right now? Right now she could barely breathe. Darth Ceria didn’t even care what happened at this moment. She had to get out of here. 

When she finally managed to get into her cockpit, she sank into its familiar seat and started to reach for the controls. Her vision swam and she couldn’t even function enough to decipher the codes she needed to get her own ship started. Her mask continued to pump its serum into her, struggling to repair the damage of blaster shots and lightsaber cuts, but it could only do so much. If she didn’t fly out of here, she’d be caught in whatever explosives the ship had been laced with.

“BB-9D,” she ordered and the droid whistled to life from where it was hidden behind her seat. “Fly us out of here and get us to...just get us out of here.”

The droid beeped at her and she sighed.

“Because this isn’t safe. Just fly.”

The droid had the nerve to ask where before even assuming control and she grit her teeth together.

“Let’s just go home for now. Coordinates are in the ship. Disable the tracker unit we have.”

BB-9D whistled in protest.

“That’s an order. Let’s go!”

The droid obediently rolled itself to position on the pad just behind her seat and took control of the ship with a whirring whistle. Trusting the droid to take care of her, Darth Ceria sank into her chair and reached down for her injured sides. The cuts were deep, dangerously so, and she pressed her bloody palm to one. She screamed in reaction to the pain that sliced through her and she rolled in her seat as she tried to reach for the bacta spray she always kept close-by.

Her hand just brushed it before she passed out from the agony.

* * *

The Contingency blew from the bottom upward and it was clear that Han Solo had known exactly what to do when it came to destroying a beast of a ship. The explosions were not containable. They ran the length of its weapon turret and into the relative safety of the main engine room. They popped off, one after another, and the chain reaction it caused was a brilliant display. Finally it reached the head of the ship and there was a wail across the commlinks as the scrambled ship tried to send out an SOS.

At a safe distance, Poe watched the flames climb slowly, explosions forcing their way outward along the ridges. The massive dreadnought was going down from the bottom and already it was starting to splinter apart. The Star Destroyers around it were trying to get out of the way or be sucked into the explosive gravity it was starting to show. Poe watched as escape ships began to pilot out from the safety of the top hangar bays. He didn’t care who was escaping. Their orders had been to be a distraction. Except maybe…

“General? Come in.”

Leia’s voice had the same hollowness that Ben Solo’s had had. “What is it?”

“Ship’s going down. You want us to capture any First Order?” Poe asked, his eyes on the red and black ship slowly coasting away toward the Star Destroyers. He ignored it. It wasn’t of importance. Nearby the Destroyers were already turning about to head out. The loss of the major firepower clearly made them skittish. The Resistance had won the hour but he didn’t trust it. The more ships he took down, the better. This wasn’t a full fleet, he supposed, and that was lucky. They had time to evacuate and get to the safety of some unknown planet.

Leia’s voice was firm, “Leave them.”

“But, General!” Poe protested.

“I said leave them and return immediately! That’s all!” Leia shouted at him and he flinched. She had never raised her voice to him before. It was as acute as if she had slapped him across the face.

“As you wish, General. Black Leader to squadrons, get ready to return to base.”

* * *

Ben didn’t care about the dreadnought that was falling apart in space, ripped apart with the massive firepower that exploded from the engine room. The ship was incapacitated. It was a victory. The Resistance had won this battle and even the First Order knew it. The Sith had been left to die. Snoke’s plans were up in smoke for now with that Contingency ship falling to pieces. Han Solo had known exactly what to do. Ben knew it was a victory, in a blurry way, but he didn’t care.

Dripping with sweat and blood, Ben sat at his father’s bedside and stared into his drained face. His leg jumped nervously as he sat, holding onto Han’s hand. He wished that Force healing was real, wished he could just push his life force into his father and heal him. But the wound was too deep and the blood was...there was so much. It mixed with the tears and blood dripping down Ben’s cheek to his father’s chest.

Chewie had wanted to patch Ben up with bacta spray, to stop the flow of blood dripping down Ben’s face, but the younger Solo had ignored him to sit with Han. Chewie had taken up watch as well as the Falcon flew with the Resistance toward the safety of Yavin Four. Ben didn’t care about the pain he was feeling. Pain was a relief right now and Ben revelled in it to keep himself from falling apart. In the bed nearby, Finn was still unconscious. 

The Falcon was set to autopilot. For once she was doing as ordered without rattling. It was as if the Falcon herself knew what was happening. Inside her, they were safe and yet Ben felt anything but relieved. 

His world had just been split at the seams.

Han lay there, an oddly peaceful look up on his face as he stared into Ben’s eyes. “Kid,” he whispered. “Your mom is gonna need you.”

“Don’t start that, Dad. She needs both of us.” Ben reached for the covering Chewie had put over the wound in his father’s chest and lifted it. It was a miracle Han was still conscious, he thought, so maybe the wound wasn’t that bad. Then he saw it for the first time, the deep, gaping wound that had splintered into his father’s chest, and Ben’s head bowed immediately in reaction. He sniffed back the urge to turn and rage at the unfairness of this. Instead, he focussed on his father’s face and reached for his other hand. “Dad. I’m so sorry. This was my fault.”

Han reached up and put his hand on Ben’s face, smoothing his calloused palm down his son’s cheek in that familiar, comforting way of his. “It’ll be okay, Ben. It’ll be okay.”

“Dad,” Ben whispered but he felt his father slipping away. The Force around them was humming as if in grief. “Please, I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll know. You’ll know,” Han whispered.

Then the smuggler closed his eyes and sighed one last, rattling sigh.

Ben and Chewie felt his loss immediately and Chewie went to his knees with a long, warbling howl that blasted through the air. Ben stared at his father’s now still, lifeless face. He didn’t dare take his hand from Han’s, even as the grip became loose and limp. He clung to those fingers and prayed that this was a bad dream, one he would wake up from. But Han was cool to the touch now and his mouth had parted in a soft smile. He looked...peaceful.

Ben clung to his hand. “Dad,” he whispered.

Then he felt his mother’s presence. “ _ Come home.”  _ He heard her voice in his head as clearly as if she sat beside him in this moment. 

There was no home anymore. Not for him.

He took long, desperate moments to collect himself. Chewie had come to Han’s feet and was bent over him, making soft mewling sounds and deep purrs of grief. His hairy paw kept smoothing over Han’s face and Ben took a shaky breath.

He had to get control. He couldn’t...he couldn’t lose control. Not now.

“Chewie,” Ben said before clearing his throat. His voice was surprisingly steady. “I’m gonna land her on Yavin Four. Let’s get him to Mom. It’s what he would have wanted.”

* * *

Leia was waiting for the entire squadron when ship after ship landed in the hangar bay. Unlike the others, Ben landed the Falcon on the concrete strip and watched his mother approach in a rush, her technicians with her. He never looked away as he lowered the ramp, leaning on the consol to watch his mother as she wrung her hands together. The doctors and triage soldiers were quick to take Finn down the ramp, direct to the medbay where they could at least try to save him. Leia only gave Finn’s unconscious body a look before staring back at the Falcon. Poe Dameron and his men were first to her but she waved them on to debrief. Her eyes were on the Falcon alone. C-3PO stood at her side, likely making idle chatter to soothe his mistress’s rattled nerves. Ben could feel it across the distance, her worry. Her grief.

It was too much.

It was Chewie who appeared before her as the next body down was his father’s. Chewie handed her Han’s precious medal, the one he always kept hidden on himself for good luck, and Ben watched his mother absorb the weight of his father’s death with what dignity she had left. She pressed the medal to her forehead and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her though he knew she couldn’t hear him. “It was my fault.”

Suddenly, the chance to see his mother, to face the sin of what he had done, was too much. Sniffing back tears, Ben held back the urge to go down and embrace his mother when she needed him most. He should have gone down to her. He should stand with her for the ceremonial burial of such a war hero. But Ben did the only thing he could think to do. 

He began to prep the Falcon for take off.

“Ben!” Leia called and Chewie roared at him but he tried not to hear it. He didn’t want to hear it.

Ben Solo’s world had fallen apart. 

* * *

Leia watched the Falcon begin to hover off the ground, Chewie holding onto her shoulders, and felt torn apart. Ben was running away from her, away from what had happened. She could feel the white-hot edges of his grief slicing across the Force, his rage a boiling point that was almost reached. Leia had never really feared her son but this was the first time she was afraid of him. For him. Of what he might do.

“Chewie, he’s going to need you.”

The Wookie rumbled as they watched the ship pivot slowly and head across the hangar to the open area. It blasted off into the sky, a relic of a time when Leia had fought for those she loved, now a ship taking away the last of her tiny family. Leia sniffled and reached up to take Chewie’s massive paw in hers. “Chewie, can you find him? We need him. The Resistance needs him.”

Her hands shook as she clutched Han’s medal close. “We’re going to need him so much.”

Chewie roared but his sad eyes were on the covered form of his best friend as he was transported to the back bay with the other casualties that had been recovered. Leia felt the Wookie’s grief in the way he clung to her hand and she reached up to stroke him behind the ears. “Okay, Chewie. Stay for a little while. Ben... just… he needs time. Then we bring him home, okay?” she asked, feeling every year of her age.

The Wookie gave her a concerned rumble and smoothed her hair back from her face, patting her braids gently. “ _ I’ll find the little one when we bury Han,”  _ was the soft promise. Leia nodded and leaned into her old friend, embracing him.

Now more than ever she needed her friends and her family when she had just lost two loves.

* * *

“How’s he doing?” Poe asked Doctor Mainete as the Twi’lek exile leaned in over Finn. They had stripped Finn down to his skin and were disinfecting him as thoroughly as they could. Poe stood in the corner where he’d been ordered to stay and he kept fidgeting, touching things around him, trying to hide his nervousness. “Doc? How is he?”

“Be calm, Poe. He took quite the blow. Again.” Mainete had been the one to patch Finn up before the last time he had scraped with Darth Ceria on Takodana. “His body can’t take much more stress. He should never have gone in the first place, Poe. You know that.” Her blue skin mottled a bit in her annoyance and Poe kept quiet. “Now he’s going to be unconscious, perhaps for a long time, in order to heal.”

“Any way we can speed it along?” Poe asked.

Mainete sighed. “We’ll put him in a bacta tank. There’s still an old one available. We’ve had a lot of injuries you know. He’ll need to be fully submerged.” She looked up at the scans. “The damage….Poe, he took numerous blows to the head as well. The shock of his injuries is what has put him into a coma. It is a wonder he isn’t dead.”

Poe nodded and would have asked another question regarding the lightsaber wounds when the door hissed open. The General entered but, to Poe, she didn’t seem...herself. She looked aged and very tired. Resigned.

“How is he?” she asked Mainete.

“He’ll recover but it will take some time. Provided we don’t have any interruptions...a week or so.”

“Good,” Leia said, “very good.”

She went to leave but caught Poe’s eye. Her sad gaze held onto him and obediently he followed her out into the hallway. “What is it, General?” he asked, trying not to seem too eager to get back to Finn.

“I need an escort,” she said.

“An escort? Where are we going? I don’t know if I should leave Finn.”

“Finn will be fine. You know that.” Leia sighed and closed her eyes. “Please don’t argue with me, Poe, I’m in no mood.”

“Me? Argue?” he joked but he realized she really was being honest. She couldn’t bear jokes right now. Respectfully, he blushed and looked down at his boots.

“We’ve had some devastating losses. We need to go on a diplomatic mission to make sure our suppliers are still aligned with us,” Leia said in a hushed voice. “I will need an escort.”

Poe gave her an astute look. “What are we really doing, General?”

She sighed. “We’re looking for a new base. The First Order won’t take this loss lying down and we’ll need to get out of here fast. They know where we are. Within the day, they will send new forces out to destroy us.”

“Evacuation orders? Already?” Poe looked around at the celebrating pilots and tech staff.

“Already. Ackbar and Holdo will get them all to Dantooine first and we will move on from there. We are going to scatter the Resistance across the galaxy but a core group will find a new base. Understood? Or do you want to argue?” she demanded.

Poe saluted her. “I’m at your command, General.” He looked back into the med bay. “What about Finn?”

Leia looked with him as well. “He’ll be transported with us. I know what he means to you already and I understand. We’ve all lost too much.” Her hands clutched a small medal. “Too much.”

“What about Ben?” Poe asked. He had seen the body of Han Solo brought in but he hadn’t seen Ben yet. He would have thought this might be a mission for Leia and her son, not a pilot. Leia shook her head and Poe wisely kept his mouth shut. “I see.”

“My son will be joining us,” she said firmly. “But he needs some time. He lost his father and Ben is...he...well…”

She shook her head. “He needs more help than I can give him with the Resistance.”

Poe nodded. “I understand. When do we leave?” 

“Evacuation will be in 0400 hours. I want this entire base stripped bare,” Leia said with a hint of her old strength. The kind that moved even the strongest of men and women to do her bidding. “Am I understood?”

This time when Poe saluted there was no hint of mockery. “Yes, General.”

“Good. Get to it.”

* * *

Snoke stared at Hux. It was, in some blasted Force way, a miracle the General had survived. Phasma as well. But the news they brought wasn’t exactly welcome. Snoke had watched the destruction of the Contingency from his safe place on the Supremacy and he had known a blinding rage. A rage he had quickly tempered. He was better than some apprentice. Rage would serve no purpose. Revenge was best served ice cold and brutal.

But this news...this news was unwelcome.

“What do you mean, General Hux? How can no one know where Lady Ceria is?” Snoke asked.

“Her ship is giving off no signals. She was aboard the Contingency but now...well...no sign of her,” Hux said and with great relish he grinned. “Maybe she is dead.”

Snoke closed his eyes and sighed. “No, not dead.”

“Then where is she?” Hux asked. “Should we hunt her down? Has she betrayed us?”

There was too much eagerness in Hux’s voice, which made raising a hand and crunching on his windpipe with the Force too easy. Hux began gasping for breath as Snoke considered his next move. 

“She would never betray us. I would have foreseen it,” Snoke said, ignoring the way Hux twitched and clutched at his throat. “Yes, I would have foreseen it.”

His beady eyes locked on Hux’s face. “Send out the Knights of Ren to the Outer Rim and search for her ship, for a signal. I know where she is going.”

“Where?” Hux managed.

“Where all beaten dogs go to lick their wounds. Home, General Hux, she has gone home.”


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all grieve in different ways.
> 
> A lost hero finds a lost Ben Solo

The back dreg bar was one of those places that was perfect for the best of the worst. Its reputation was the perfect cover, if you needed it. Not many First Order ever came in and fewer Resistance members made their presence known. The constant ins and outs of smugglers and thieves was almost too easy to get lost in and they frightened off many of the more well-to-do Galactic residents. The heat was sweltering today, even on the streets, and many inhabitants were feeling miserable. Many were staying indoors, betting away life’s savings or freedoms. It was the usual run of the mill for the day to day on Numidian Prime.

At the sabacc table, there was a crowd cheering over some smuggler winning his weight in credits. In another corner, a Twi’lek dancing girl was fending off the advances of two men with expert poise while at the same time lifting their credits from them. Underneath the table, small children were picking the pockets of the players. The bar was busy and it made for an easy cover for any shady deal going on. In its heat, it was easy to get drunk on the strongest of liquor and forget your worries.

Which was exactly what Ben Solo was hoping for. 

Sitting at the table he’d found in a secluded dark corner, Ben pulled his hood over his face and stared numbly at the glass of Corellian whiskey before him. The decanter glistened and promised a bit of oblivion if he wanted it. He’d spent a good amount of credits to get the entire bottle to himself and he was determined to enjoy it. It was a favourite of his dad’s after all.

“Here’s to you, Dad,” he whispered before downing another shot. It burned hot on the way down and he managed not to cough too loud to attract attention. As the liquor made his head spin, Ben propped his long legs up on the table top and sighed as he leaned back a little into the wall.

His mother was going to kill him for running away like this but what else was he supposed to do? 

Force, he should have stayed after all.

It didn’t concern him though, not the way it should have. His head ached from the wound he had suffered and his ripshod patch job with bacta spray and the sew-job a backwater doctor had given up him with painkillers still burned like fire. He didn't really feel the wounds that now decorated him from the top of his brow to his shoulder. No. The only thing Ben could really see was his father’s lifeless body, and he could still feel Han’s cold hand within his grip. He couldn’t get the image out of his head. No matter how much he drank, it didn’t seem to go away. It replayed in quick visions, interspersed with glimpses of a woman in black, of lightsabers snarled together in battle, and then overlapped with his mother’s stricken expression as he left her behind.

Some rational thought told him that he should go home but he knew his mother. She’d be gone by now. The Resistance would find a new home and he’d have to go to all of the old hideouts to find her. Maybe it didn’t matter. Ben didn’t have a home now. All he had was his father’s old ship and memories. Memories that didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered in the face of what he had caused. It didn’t amount to much that they had saved the Resistance from the First Order. Not when he had lost one of the only people he cared about.

Selfish as it was, Ben was having a hard time caring about the fate of the Resistance as he lost himself in whiskey and the smoky atmosphere around him. Anyone could come in and threaten to rob him and he knew he wouldn’t care. A Queen of Naboo could bring in a procession and he would be blind to it. This coming from a boy who had once been absolutely entranced by the elegance of courts and government. Now, he couldn’t even stomach the thought of facing great cities or the political schemes of the Resistance to keep itself afloat.

Ben was determined to lose himself for a little while. He checked his weapons, glanced at the overhead clock, and decided he had some time before he had to move on. He closed his eyes and rested for a while. Trying to ignore the deep gnaw of guilt that threatened to choke him.

He was blindly reaching out to pour himself another glass of whiskey when he felt the Force crackle around him. It was the only description for it. Which meant a Force user had entered the bar. Ben didn’t open his eyes but he let his hand drift down to his leg. The lightsaber strapped to his thigh alongside his father’s blaster was ready to use but he was, really, too drunk to use it. Well, use it with any skill anyway. He resigned himself to suffering through what was about to come next.

He wasn’t disappointed though he was a little surprised at the person who sat across from him.

An older man with bright blue eyes and sandy grey hair slid into the seat across from him, his sedate robes still crisp despite the humidity around them. “Hey, kid.”

Ben lifted his head and opened his eyes to pin his uncle with a cold stare. “What are you doing here, Luke?”

“Looking for you. You mom told me where she thought you’d go. She wasn’t wrong. Old habits die hard for the Solo family.” Luke Skywalker sighed and pushed his sleeves back to expose his arms, strangely well-tanned despite his hermitage nature. So he hadn’t been hiding in Dagobah like Ben had first thought.

“You here to bring me home?” Ben asked, staring at the older man suspiciously. He was more than ready to dig his heels in a little about this. “Thought she would have sent a bounty hunter. Or worse, Poe Dameron.”

“No. No hunters. Just me.” Luke reached out for the decanter and poured himself a glass. The gesture made Ben’s eyebrow arch a little. He’d never seen his uncle drink very much. Wasn’t very Jedi of him. Luke lifted the glass and tapped it against Ben’s. “You think you don’t need anything, don’t you? Just your own miserable company.”

“This your version of a pep talk? It’s pretty bad,” Ben muttered as he reached for his glass and sullenly looked away.

“What’s the great plan?” Luke asked as he sipped the whiskey, grimacing at its strength. “Hide out here? Run smuggling routes? Bet your Dad had some cargo lined up if I knew Han.”

“It’s what Dad would do,” Ben said, swiping a hand over his face and sighing drunkenly. He made the mistake of looking at his uncle and the sadness he saw there made Ben flush in shame. 

“No, Ben.” Luke’s eyes were sympathetically sad. “Your father wouldn’t hide. He’d want you to do more than hide.”

Ben looked at him for a long moment, wishing all at once that he would stop. He couldn’t handle talking about his dad like this. In the past tense. It was still too fresh.

“He’d want you to fight.”

“I’ve got nothing to fight for,” Ben answered. He paused mid-sip and cleared his throat. “I killed him.”

Luke said nothing to that, just watched Ben’s face crumple. He knew his nephew’s strength and unlike Leia, he was very well aware of Ben’s real weaknesses. Of his fears and his nightmares. “Your father loved you, Ben. Still does.” He sipped the whiskey again. “He wouldn’t want you to lose yourself to grief.”

Ben didn’t answer, looking away again. It was a long time before he spoke again. When he looked at Luke, there was a haunted echo of a young boy there in his eyes. A boy who had come to him for help understanding how to control the incredible powers he had inherited from his bloodline. A boy who had begged him to get rid of the nightmares. Luke had thought he had helped him but he realized now that there was now much more work to be done.

“What do you want me to do?” Ben asked. "Become a Jedi after all? After everything that happened to keep me safe from the Dark side?"

Luke gave him a gentle smile. “It’s time to come home, Ben.” He clinked his glass against Ben’s and nodded. “It’s time to stop running. It’s time to find your path to the Force.”


End file.
